


NCT: All Grown Down

by sobistars



Series: NCT: All Grown Down [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Married Life, Past Relationship(s), Single Dad Taeyong, Single Parents, single dad doyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15064322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobistars/pseuds/sobistars
Summary: Renjun wonders off looking for apples, and finds Mark, who's wondered off just for the hell of it.





	1. lost and found: part one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuroosuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroosuno/gifts).



> AAAAAAAAA.
> 
> its the beginning of rugrats au!! there are more ships, rugrats and stuff coming up. 
> 
> this is actually a VERY late birthday present for my dear, dear rachel. she loves babies. here are two of those babies. 
> 
> i hope you like it!!! 
> 
> <3

Leaning down slightly to scan the brands of cereal on the shelf, Kim Doyoung hitches Renjun up further to rest more comfortably on his hip. His son is getting heavy, Doyoung thinks with a bittersweet smile to himself. He’ll be four in just a few months, he can’t believe it. Four years he’s been a Dad, and two years he’s being doing it by himself. Renjun wriggles a little, then presses a kiss to Doyoung’s cheek, his silent plea to be let down so he can explore the supermarket by himself. Doyoung sighs.

“Renjunnie, if I let you down, you’re going to run off and get lost.”

“Won’t,” Renjun says, wriggling again, “cross my heart.”

Doyoung sighs again. He doesn’t believe him, of course. His son is an explorer by nature, which is wonderful, Doyoung is very proud of his son’s curiosity, but it takes its toll when he has to keep an eye free at all times to watch him. It’s easier if he holds him, most of the time, so he knows where he is. But this shopping really needs to get done, and holding a restless three year old in one arm really isn’t speeding up the process.

“You stand next to the cart, okay?” Doyoung sets Renjun down, watches as he instantly tries to climb the cart to get to his Moomin plushie. He carries it everywhere, but today it’s been helping with the shopping. “No wondering off, Junnie.” Doyoung takes pity, and grabs Moomin for him.

Renjun nods, taking the plushie in his arms and hugging it closely. “Thank you, Dad.” Doyoung feels relief that Renjun says it without being prompted. _If he doesn’t have manners, he doesn’t have anything,_ Doyoung’s Mother always reminds him when she calls.

The shopping trip is a lot less painful now Doyoung has his hands free to pick things up and check the backs of items to check sugar contents and all the other stuff he never really thought about until Renjun. Even the bran flakes they both hate but Doyoung has been buying since his brother, Jungwoo, came to live with them three months ago, are loaded with sugar and other bad things that he shouldn’t be giving his son. 

“Dad, we need apples. Uncle Woo ate them all.”

Doyoung nods absent-mindedly, weighing up the family pack of cornflakes against the regular size. The height of domestic living.

“Dad!”

“Yes, Renjunnie.” Doyoung pushes his glasses up his nose, and groaning when his phone starts to buzz in his pocket. “We’ll get them.”

Deciding on the regular cornflakes, Doyoung throws the box into the basket and pulls out his phone. It’s work, because of course it is. His only day off of the week, his only quality time day with Renjun and work just can’t function without him. It’s flattering, on the one hand. But Doyoung’s hands are very much full today. He has no time for feeling flattered.

 

* * *

 

Renjun knows what the noise means, has heard it, paired with his dad’s grumble-sound, many times. It means, most times, that his dad is going to go into the other room and tell Renjun to play on his own for a little bit. It means his dad is going to be grouchy, and tired, and Renjun will have to hold his hand until he feels a little happier. He doesn’t mind doing it, even if he can’t understand it.

Realising that getting the apples is probably not what his dad is thinking of doing next, Renjun decides it’s better if he does it himself. They’re important, after all, his dad always says so. It’ll help his dad out too, he doesn’t want to stay in the market forever.

He knows the aisles pretty well. Every Friday for as long as he can remember, his dad has taken him shopping to buy groceries. He can just about reach the second shelves in the aisles now, without needing to be lifted or stepping on something. His Uncle Woo says he was small for his age, too. But Renjun doesn’t think he’s small. Everything else is just big.

When he gets to the produce aisle, he encounters his first issue. Usually, his dad helps him sit up on the edge of the stand, to pick out the fruits and vegetable he wants that week. They have a system. Renjun knows how to tell a bad apple from a good one, and his dad knows which bananas will become yellow first. Without his help, Renjun is going to have to guess some things, but it doesn’t matter. His dad won’t mind green bananas.

A running jump seems the best way of getting up to the high stand, but Renjun isn’t the best jumper. He looks around for something he can stand on, but there’s nothing. He frowns. A running jump it is. Taking a breath, Renjun clutches Moomin a little tighter. “We’ve got this,” he says, tugging on his best friend’s hand.

As soon as Renjun goes to move, his way gets blocked by a boy only a little taller than himself. The boy stops him so suddenly, Renjun loses his balance and falls back on his butt. Thankfully, the stranger doesn’t laugh at him, and Renjun thinks he should say thank you.

But then he remembers it’s the boy’s fault he’s on his butt in the first place and says nothing.

“If you’re trying to get up there, you should put your toy down first,” the boys says, “so you can grab on and pull yourself up.”

Renjun looks down at Moomin, then clutches him a little closer.

“You wanna get up there, right?” The boy isn’t someone Renjun recognises, he’s never seen him in this supermarket before, and he’s seen pretty much everyone who comes here. He knows all the Aunties here, they like to pinch his cheeks and tell his dad how much he’s grown since the last time they saw him. This boy, in his blue jacket and hat that Renjun kind of wants for himself, he does not recognise. 

“I’m Mark,” he says, holding out his hand for Renjun to take. Renjun does so, a little hesitantly, suddenly wishing he was with his dad again.

“Do you talk?”

Renjun shrugs and pulls his hand back.

“Do you want help getting up there?”

Renjun shrugs again, then nods.

The boy smiles. “Come on, I know what to do.”

 

* * *

 

Taeyong is possibly the worst father to exist. Ever.

Okay, maybe he’s overexaggerating. Out of all the dads in the world, he’s probably not even in the bottom ten. Bottom fifty, maybe. He wonders how many dads have lost their five-year-old sons in the supermarket, after only a week of moving the kid all the way to Korea. He resigns himself to the bottom twenty.

He considers for a moment asking an employee to help him look, maybe they can call Mark’s name over the speakers and tell him that his dad is almost in tears and desperate to prove that he’s not a completely incompetent father, and that he was right to bring him home with him after six years of living abroad, so if he could please come to the front desk so his dad would stop crying, that’d be great. They’d probably run a condensed version. “Mark could you please come to the front desk. Your loser father is looking for you.” Perhaps Taeyong simply sniffling into the mic with a “Mark, please” would do the trick.

He’s not new to this, The Dad Thing. He’s been doing okay at it for five years now. But he hasn’t had much practice with The Single Dad Thing, not yet. It’s only been a month, and whilst Mark is a great kid, even the best kids are handfuls, that’s just how kids are.

Taeyong decides to handle this by himself. Truthfully, that probably has more to do with the fact he doesn’t want the shop assistants to think he’s an incompetent father, or even for them to ask him why his son goes by his Western name, not his Korean one. He feels like there’ll be lots of explaining he’ll have to do in the next few months, starting with where Mark’s mum is.

He wonders through the aisles, considering calling Mark’s name but thinking better of it. He hopes the frantic turns of his head aren’t giving anything way, but then, no one seems to be looking at him.  

Stuck in his thoughts, Taeyong doesn’t mean to crash into the stranger, but once he sees his face he thinks perhaps it wasn’t a massive loss that he did. The man is slightly taller than himself, wearing glasses and a stern expression that reminds Taeyong of his high school days, when teachers would pick him on him for breathing. But he’s attractive, _hell is he attractive._

“Just wait a second, Johnny,” the man says into his phone, and Taeyong is ashamed to say his heart flutters at the sound of his voice. It’s the sort of voice that’s soft but trying to sound tough and threatening. Taeyong tries not to smile fondly, lest the stranger thinks he’s mocking him. “Could you watch where you’re going?”

“Sorry, sorry, I-” Taeyong tries to compose himself, he’s out of breath a little from running when he found Mark wasn’t stood next to him. “Sorry,” he starts again, “I’m looking for my little boy. He’s five, and he’s wondered off. I’m sorry.”

The man’s gaze softens somewhat when Taeyong mentions Mark, and he feels relief that the stranger is sympathetic.

“I haven’t seen any kids on their own around here, just a lot of old ladies. Renjunnie, have you-” The man turns to the centre of the aisle, apparently talking to someone who isn’t there. “Oh, crap."

“Are you missing someone too?”

“My son. Renjun. He’s almost five.” The man raises his phone to his ear again, his voice strained. “Johnny. Hi, I’ll call you back. Renjun’s wondered off. No, no, I’m fine, thank you. I’ll talk to you later."

The man puts his phone back in his pocket and smooths his jacket down before looking back at Taeyong. “I’m Doyoung, want to help me find my child? I’ll help you find yours.” 

Taeyong nods, grateful for the help and for the company. “Taeyong.”

 

* * *

 

Mark talks whilst Renjun picks out the fruit. He doesn’t want to tell Mark to go away, not now he’s helped both him and Moomin get onto the fruit stand, but Mark won’t stop asking him questions. 

“Why is your tooth like that?” Mark had asked him, when Renjun had beamed at him after he’d found the step ladder that got them up here. Renjun hadn’t told him that it was natural, just the way his teeth had grown in, that his dad said it made him unique. He’d just shrugged and put his teeth away.

“Are you here with your mom or with your dad?” Mark asks, helping Renjun choose apples. He keeps choosing the wrong ones, Renjun thinks silently. But he lets him put them in his plastic bag, he’ll just pick them out later.

“Dad,” Renjun says, the first word he’s spoken to the boy. If it surprises Mark, he doesn’t say, just keeps on talking.

“Me too. I just live with my dad now, my mom is back in Canada.”

Renjun doesn’t know what Canada means, so he ignores it.

“Where’s _your_ mom?” Mark asks.

Renjun pats his side, to make sure Moomin is still sat next to him.

“Is she at home?”

Renjun shakes his head.

“At work? My mom works a lot too.”

Renjun does nothing this time, just finishes up collecting his apples.

“My dad says that-”

“Mark Lee!” The voice starts the pair of them so much they almost fall from the stand. Renjun instinctively drops the apples and grabs hold of Moomin. He’s not sure who protects who.

He’s relieved when he sees his dad beside the owner of the voice. Even wearing an angry face, his dad is more of a comfort than strangers. Instantly, he reaches his arms out for his dad to grab him and pull him away from Mark, who’s jumping down from the stand himself, looking nervous.

“Renjunnie,” his dad says in a low, warning voice, “what did I say about running off?”

Renjun snuggles his face into his dad’s chest, and feels him hug back.

“I was getting apples,” he says. His dad holds him tighter.

“I can see that. I was worried about you, Junnie.”

Renjun looks over his dad’s shoulder to find mark being hugged by the man with The Voice. Mark doesn’t look much like him, but he guesses the man is his dad, from the way he’s telling Mark off, even though it’s a soft voice. Mark is stood on the ground, whilst the man is crouched in front of him, pulling his hat off his head and smoothing the hair on his face. Renjun wonders if his dad will let him get a hat like that. 

“Thank you, for helping me look for Renjun,” his dad says suddenly, turning his body so that Renjun is looking at an empty aisle. He twists in his hold so he’s looking at Mark again.

“Of course, and, ditto for me and Mark.” The man says, standing up and straightening out his jacket. “Sorry about, you know, bumping into you.”

“It’s fine. Not a problem.” His dad says nothing for a moment, then continues. “We should exchange numbers. Looks like these two became friends, it’d be nice to meet up again, for coffee or something, let them bond some more.”

Renjun groans a little and throws his head into his dad’s neck. 

“Urm, yeah! That’d be… really great, actually. Cool.” The man is nothing like his dad, Renjun thinks. Not nearly as cool.

Renjun feels himself being lowered into the cart, and huffs when he realises his dad isn’t going to let him walk around the shop on his own anymore. Whilst his dad moves to talk to the man some more, pulling out his phone, Mark wonders over, and puts his hands on the tiny bars of the cart.

“Thanks for hanging out with me,” he says. Renjun nods. “You’re kinda cool, even though you don’t speak. I like your coat."

Renjun looks down at his puffy black winter coat, then back up at Mark.

“Thanks,” he says, because manners.

Mark beams at this, and takes his hand away. By the time he’s shuffled back over to his dad, both parties are ready to leave. Renjun shuffles around so that he’s facing forward, away from Mark and the man.

“So, I’ll text you?”

“Yeah,” his dad sounds happy, Renjun realises. Happier than he’s been all week, probably.

“So, Renjunnie, what do we need next?” his dad says in a sing-song voice, like he’s already forgotten Renjun wondered off.

 “Uncle Woo’s chips,” Renjun says, like he does every Friday when they shop together.

“Right. Good thing you’re here, right?” Doyoung pats Renjun’s head, and Renjun looks up at him to smile.


	2. lost and found: part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dotae coffee date, renjun learns to open up, and mark is a sweet butterball babe who just wants a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Rachel again, but also for all the people who liked the last chapter. I didn’t expect anyone other than her to be interested in this AU, but I’m so happy that people enjoyed the first part. There’s so much more coming up <3

Taeyong checks his watch again, tapping his foot instinctively and watching the door. Every so often, Mark will shift in his seat and Taeyong will whip his head around, to make sure his son isn’t scurrying off again. It’s been a week since the supermarket, and Mark hasn’t run off since, but the seed of paranoia has already been planted. The need for _constant attention_ has been drilled into Taeyong’s head.

“We’re early, Da,” Mark says, sipping his drink happily. Taeyong had bought him a baby-chino; lots of frothy milk in a small cup, with Mark’s name written on it with a smiley face. Taeyong’s little knowledge of raising children just about stretches to not giving them coffee (though that had been another lesson learnt the hard way).  

Taeyong clicks his tongue loosely, out of habit, and realises that, they are still are a little early. By fourteen minutes. He’d told Doyoung four o’clock, and Doyoung had told him that that was perfect. Had it not been for Doyoung’s job, they would have met on a weekday, after Mark and Renjun had finished playgroup; he’d discovered on Mark’s first day that Renjun also attended Dream Day-care.

 That had been a pleasant surprise.

 

* * *

 

_Five days earlier..._

 

Taeyong is running late.

Before, he had never normally been late to things; had never experienced the unpleasant sensation of walking into a room filled with people waiting for him, tsking when he apologised profusely. He’d maintained a perfect record at school; never once late for class or caught skiving. He was meticulous, he was known for it. He’d never been late.

Before Mark.

One of the many things he’s realised since becoming a Father, is just how precious minutes are, and just how fast they go by. Another thing he’s learnt about time, more recently, this morning in fact, is how quickly your five-year-old losing his favourite shoes, seven minutes before you are due to leave the house, can throw a spanner into the works and change the course of the day.

 “Mark,” Taeyong says, sternly. Before moving Mark to Korea, Taeyong had considered starting to call Mark by his Korean name, just so he wouldn’t stick out so much. His Korean is good; _he might not need to stick out at all_ , Taeyong had thought, could just keep his head down and get on with it. 

But, Taeyong had decided, it made little sense forcing Mark to use his Korean name now. He knew it, of course, it’s what his Grandmother called him (even when Taeyong said Mark over the phone, she’d always say Minhyung when referring to him). But no point confusing him. He was Mark, everyone would just have to get on with it.

“Mark Lee,” Taeyong repeats, because of course, kids never pay attention the first time you call them, “where are your shoes?”

Mark shrugs, his Nintendo switch buzzing in his hands. He’s usually quite helpful, if not a little over-enthusiastic sometimes, but this morning there is something off. Taeyong wonders if maybe he’s nervous, or else angry at him for some reason or other. They get on well, the pair of them, but there’s still a lot Taeyong hasn’t explained, isn’t sure how to explain, and he’s sure Mark knows that, being a bright and inquisitive child. He has to know about the gaps in his knowledge, but obviously knows better than to ask.

 “Mark, help me out, please? We have to leave soon.”

With slight hesitation, Mark pauses his game and stands up. He mirrors Taeyong’s stance; hands on hips, head tilted to the side. He isn’t trying to be cheeky, or at least Taeyong doesn’t think he is, he’s just being funny. 

“Does it have to be those shoes?” Taeyong asks, trying not to sound as exasperated as he feels. _Don’t give them an inch_ , his Mum had advised him in regards to children _, the minute you show weakness, they’ve already won._

Taeyong knows the answer before Mark nods his head. He sighs.

“Well, they have to be here somewhere, right? Go look in your room, okay?”

 Mark nods, scratching his nose.

“Don’t worry, Da. If we can’t find them, I’ll just stay here with you today!” 

Taeyong almost laughs, ruffling Mark’s hair as he passes.

They make it, eventually, both breathing heavily and Mark wearing the wrong shoes; a pair of beat-up converse that are probably a little small for him now. Taeyong isn’t sure why they’d brought them to Korea, really. Nostalgia, maybe; they were the first pair he’d ever bought for his son.

“Made it,” Taeyong wheezes, letting go of Mark’s hand to check the time on his watch, “and only twenty minutes late.”

“Will they let me in?” Mark says, sounding hopeful. “The door is closed.”

“Of course they will,” Taeyong says, leaning over to tie Mark’s laces, and almost falling on them. His stamina really isn’t what it used to be; back when he used to dance every day.

He misses dancing more than he misses his car back in Canada. He’d sold it before they left. Sold most things.

“What will you do today, Da?” Mark asks, letting Taeyong tug him along. Taeyong doesn’t start work for another week, and up until today, he and Mark have been busy settling into the apartment and sussing out their new home.

  
“Not sure, yet,” Taeyong answers, absently, looking at the people ahead of him; a tall man, holding a child’s hand; they aren’t the only latecomers, it seems, “maybe I’ll just- Oh, hi.”

Taeyong almost collapses when Doyoung, the beautiful man from the Supermarket, turns around, and smiles at the sight of them.

 

* * *

 

 

_Present day..._

The second Doyoung had woken up this morning, something had felt off. He had woken with a start, for one, a shock to his system. He usually woke up slow, a nice counterbalance for his hectic mornings; showering, washing Renjun, eating breakfast, making Renjun’s breakfast, dressing himself, dressing Renjun, waking up his brother, Jungwoo, driving all three of them to where they needed to be. He treasured waking up slow.   

This morning, though, he’d woken with a start, in a sudden panic that he’d slept in and missed his… well, he wasn’t sure what he was meant to call his meeting with Taeyong. A date was what he wanted to call it, but with both the kids there, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps he should have specified when Taeyong had asked him for coffee earlier that week.

 

* * *

 

 

_Five days earlier..._

 

Doyoung is on a roll. He’s somehow managed to get Renjun bathed and dressed way ahead of schedule, and now has him sat happily at the kitchen table, swinging his legs and colouring. Every so often, he’ll let Moomin have a look, moving his toy’s head to peer down at the paper, and making him nod in approval. It makes Doyoung’s heart swell fondly every time.

Once he himself is clean and fed, he asks Renjun if he’s ready, and receives a tiny nod in response. He feels the tiniest bit of guilt, as he does every time it’s time to leave. His son doesn’t like day-care, hasn’t done since the first day he’d gone. That first day had been the hardest, both of them had cried, and Doyoung had been on the verge of quitting his job so he could stay with Renjun all the time. He hadn’t though, of course, because damn practicalities. 

“Let’s go, Junnie,” Doyoung says, holding out his hand. He’s feeling optimistic; Jungwoo has taken the bus this morning, so he’ll be able to make a quick stop at the day-care, then make his way to work and start early.

Approximately ten minutes into the journey, Doyoung realises his plans of getting to work early are not going to go ahead.

Of course, it isn’t a total bust, moving two miles an hour in gridlock traffic in the bitter February cold, because Renjun is there. Renjun has this inexplicable way of brightening up Doyoung’s life. He isn’t sure if it's his looks, or his manner, but there is a sweetness that gleams out of him. A fragility, too. A need to be protected.

Or perhaps that’s just Doyoung’s perception.

“Dad.”

“Injunnie,” Doyoung replies, his eyes on the road.

“Can’t we just stay today?”

“Stay where, in the car?”

Doyoung only glances at Renjun, too afraid that if he takes his eyes off the road for too long, a space will open up and he’ll miss it.

“Stay at home,” Renjun clarifies.

“Ah, Junnie,” Doyoung sighs, “we can’t. I have to go to work.”

“Then I’ll go with you there. To work.” 

“Injunnie…”

“I’ll be quiet!” Renjun cries quickly, “I’ll just draw, I promise.”

“I know you’ll be quiet, you’re very good,” Doyoung assures him, believing it. “But I can’t take you there because I won’t be able to keep my eye on you the whole time.”

“I won’t even move, Dad.”

“That’s what you told me at the Supermarket, remember? Then you ran off.”

Doyoung sees, out of the corner of his eye, the way Renjun hangs his head, and instantly feels bad for bringing it up. He knows Renjun had just wanted to help, and that he’d intended to come straight back once he’d gathered the apples, but he just can’t chance it again. He’s barely let the boy out of his sight since, present conditions excluded. 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Renjun says in a low voice.

“I know you are, baba. I’m not angry anymore, don’t worry.”

Doyoung feels so bad, he really does consider taking Renjun to work with him. He could sit him in the chair opposite his desk, let him colour whilst Doyoung himself crunched numbers at his computer. It’d be okay, right? Surely? 

It takes three conversations in his head for Doyoung to realise he’s becoming a neurotic Father.

Once they get to the day-care building, twenty minutes late, Doyoung is feeling a little surer that he’s doing the right thing, leaving Renjun there with the workers who always assure him that Renjun is in good hands. They’d never failed him, had always taken the extra care necessary to look after Renjun. 

_He’s just shy_ , they always say, _no need to worry about him!_

Renjun likes Lucas best, perhaps because he’s the youngest worker there. He’s loud, and brazen, which had shocked Doyoung when he’d first met Renjun’s ‘third best-friend’ (after Doyoung, and Moomin, of course).

He’d imagined Lucas would be quieter, more calm and subdued, like Renjun himself. Once he’d met Lucas, though, Doyoung no longer questioned it. He’d seen the tender way Lucas helped Renjun with his colouring and asked about how Moomin was. He even asked Renjun if he wanted to go to the toilet often throughout the day, because he’d noticed that he was often too shy to ask and crossed his legs instead.

This morning, Lucas isn’t there to greet Renjun at the door. The doors are shut, and Doyoung isn’t sure if they’ll even be able to get in without knocking on it. That would be embarrassing, but then, he supposes, the only people in the building to judge him are the nice workers, and a bunch of four to six-year-olds.

“Oh, hi,” comes a voice behind Doyoung, just as he’s about to try the handle. It startles him a little, and he pulls Renjun closer to him on instinct. Turning, he’s more than pleasantly surprised to see the man from the Supermarket. Taeyong, he remembers. Taeyong and Mark, smiling at him.

“Hi!” Doyoung says, maybe a little too enthusiastically for a Monday morning. Unphased by Doyoung’s brightness, Taeyong returns the smile in full. It’s such a nice smile, that for a moment, Doyoung forgets he’s was late for work, and has a four-year-old child with his arms wrapped around his leg.

“You’re late too, then?”

Doyoung nods, trying to detach Renjun’s sudden death grip on his thigh. “Not a usual occurrence, I assure you.”

“Me neither,” Taeyong says, “typical we’d be late on Mark’s first day, though.”

Doyoung remembers Taeyong mentioning they were new to the city, while they looked for the boys together. They hadn’t talked about much, too busy worrying over their sons for light chit-chat, and Doyoung had been regretting it ever since. He didn’t even know their last name.

“Dad,” Renjun murmurs beside him, “work." 

“Oh-” Doyoung had forgotten. “I’m late for work.”

 “Oh.” Taeyong seems disappointed, or at least Doyoung hopes it’s disappointment.

“We should get the kids inside.”

Taeyong nods, shepherding Mark towards the door, as the door behind Doyoung opens.

“I’d almost given up on you, Renjun!” says a voice.

Doyoung turns again, smiling once he sees who the voice belongs to. Renjun, having turned a moment quicker, almost leaps towards Lucas, who looks purely ecstatic to see them.

“Hello, Mr Kim. Traffic bad?”

Doyoung nods, relieved. With Renjun happy and ready for the day, he felt suddenly lighter; able to drift to work without a nagging sense of guilt that his son is feeling miserable and abandoned.

“You must be Mr Lee and Mark!” Lucas says, noticing Taeyong behind them. Taeyong brings Mark forward, his shoulder brushing Doyoung’s ever so slightly. Doyoung makes a note of the name. _Lee._

“That’s us.”

“Renjun, how about you say goodbye to your dad while I talk to these guys, then you, me and Mark can go and hang your coats up together?”

Doyoung catches Renjun’s frown, even if he immediately moves forward to burrow his face in Doyoung’s leg again. Doyoung steps to the side, letting Lucas speak to Taeyong and Mark, and squats down to give Renjun a hug.

“Okay?”

Renjun nods.

“Why the frown?”

Renjun shrugs.

“Moomin okay?”

Pulling back, Renjun lifts Moomin for Doyoung to inspect.

“He’s quiet today.”

“He wants to go to work with you.”

“Well, I’d love to take him, but I think he’d like to stay and look after you. You’ll be okay, yeah?”

 Renjun nods.

“Uncle Jungwoo will be here to pick you up at four o’clock, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Junnie.”

Renjun sighs. “Bye, Dad.”

After four kisses have been issued (two for Renjun, two for Moomin), Doyoung stands to leave, but decides instead to watch Taeyong as Lucas guides Mark into the building, waving to the parents. He recognises the look in Taeyong’s eyes. The look like his whole world has just been taken out of his hands.

“Horrible, isn’t it? Saying goodbye.”

“He’s never been to day-care,” Taeyong replies, without looking at him, “his Aunt looked after him in Canada.”

“You’re from Canada?” 

Taeyong nods, then shakes his head after a thought, finally looking at Doyoung. “I’m from Korea, I moved to Canada a few years ago, chasing a career in dance. Mark was born there.”

“Can I ask what brought you back?” Doyoung asks. It’s one of a million questions he doesn’t have the time to ask, but he’s curious. Taeyong is, from what little he remembers, nervous and a little awkward. Suddenly, however, he has become mysterious. Someone for Doyoung to figure out.

“How much time do you have?”

 “Not a lot, I’m afraid. I have work in, he checks his watch, ten minutes ago.”

Taeyong laughs, a short chuckle, then considers him for a moment, biting his lip. “I’m sure I’ll see you around,” He says, finally, and Doyoung feels himself deflate a little. The perfect window for date-arranging missed.

“Yeah, probably. I should go.” 

Taeyong nods, giving him a smile. “Don’t let me keep you.”

That was that, then.

 

* * *

  _Present day..._

“Dad, do I have to be friends with Renjun because you’re friends with his Dad?” Mark asks, watching his Dad as he looks to the door again. He’s been stressed out about this meeting for the past few days. He’d put Mark’s favourite shoes by the front door last night, ‘ _just to make sure.'_  

“No, of course not. But why wouldn’t you want to be friends with Renjun? Renjun is cool, right?”

“Yeah…” Mark begins. He doesn’t want his Dad to get mad at him for not befriending Renjun at playgroup, but it’s not his fault. He’s been trying, but Renjun just doesn’t seem interested in him. Or anyone, really. He just sits in the corner at break times, drawing, with his Moomin toy sat beside him.

“What’s up, Mark?” his Dad asks, turning back round to face him. He doesn’t seem angry, but Mark knows adults hide things like that sometimes. He wants to learn how. “Don’t you like Renjun?”

 “I do. He’s really cool. He’s good at drawing,” he adds, thinking about the drawing of the day-care worker, Lucas, that Renjun had spent all Tuesday afternoon on. Mark had told him it was good, and Renjun had just said thanks, before walking off to find Lucas.

“So what’s up?”

Mark shrugs, sipping his drink again. He doesn’t want to tell his Dad about all that, about Renjun not wanting to play with him, or talk to him, or anything. He doesn’t want his Dad to worry about it, or even worse, to move Mark again.

“Nothing, Da. I was just wondering.”

“Okay… You have your toy, right? So you can play with Renjun and his Moomin?” 

Mark nods, holding up his beloved plushie, Minhyung the white lion. His Grandma had sent it over when he was born, a pretty thing that came with a birth certificate to show what his name was. She’d called it Minhyung too, like Mark’s Korean name. She was the only one who signed his birthday cards that way, and Mark liked it.

He hopes Minhyung might make Renjun like him more, or at least talk to him a little, once he sees how cool Mark obviously is, with his pet lion by his side.

He’s brought crayons, too, and felt tip pens. The good kind, with two ends for thin and thick lines, and four different types of green. He wants to give one of the greens to Renjun. He already knows which one; his favourite one for drawing grass.

Renjun always draws grass, Mark has noticed. A lot of his drawings are set outside; Moomin outside, playing by the lake. Moomin skipping alongside Renjun. Sometimes Renjun’s Dad is there too, in a blazer that Renjun always colours in extra carefully, with his tongue poking out. Mark likes watching Renjun draw, but is careful to never let the boy catch him.

“Sure you’re okay? You’re quiet."

Mark nods again, giving his Dad a small smile. He’s nervous, like his Dad. He’s not sure why his Dad is nervous, though. Maybe he thinks Renjun doesn’t like him either. Or Renjun’s Dad.

Renjun’s Dad definitely does like Mark’s Dad. Mark knows this because he couldn’t stop smiling at him, that day in the supermarket. Or the day outside playgroup. Mark doesn’t blame him, because he can’t help but smile whenever he sees his Dad, either.

 

* * *

 

_Present day..._

 

Renjun heaves a sigh, the second since they got out of the car, the seventh that morning. It’s not that he doesn’t want to go and get coffee with his Dad, he loves Saturday mornings when it’s just the two of them. He likes Uncle Jungwoo, of course, but their time is precious.

That’s why he’s so annoyed he has to share the day with people he doesn’t really know or like. Not like he knows and likes his Dad. Mr Lee (his Dad had told him to call him that) is nice enough. He always smiles at Renjun, says hello in the mornings, but otherwise leaves him alone. Renjun likes that.

Mark, on the other hand, is always there, bothering him.

He doesn't dislike him, as he doesn't dislike Mr Lee, he just doesn't want to have to talk to people he doesn't know. Mark asks too many questions, has too much to say. At day-care, he’d tried to get Renjun to play instruments with him, but Renjun had said no. He’d asked if Renjun would like to build Lego with him, Renjun had said no. He’d asked what Renjun wanted to do, and Renjun had told him, nicely, that he wanted to draw with Moomin.

Mark hadn’t asked him again after that, but he’d watch Renjun. Renjun could feel it. And he befriended Lucas, _Renjun’s Lucas._ It probably wasn’t on purpose; Renjun didn’t tell the other kids about his friendship with Lucas, kept it just for the two of them, but it was still annoying to see Lucas making Lego towers with someone that wasn’t him.

“You okay, Junnie?” asks his Dad, squeezing his hand and looking down at him. He’s very excited, Renjun can tell. He likes Mr Lee, likes him a lot. He hasn’t talked to Renjun about him much, only to ask him what thinks of him (“he’s okay”) and what he thinks of Mark (“okay too”), but he’s overheard him and his uncle talking, when he and Moomin were meant to be asleep. 

 

_“He’s really nice, kinda dopey.”_

_“Not usually your type.”_

_“I don’t have a type.”_

_“Hmm, sure, Hyung.. Let’s just hope this one is gay.”_

_Gay._ It’s a word Renjun has heard a couple of times. He understands it, his Dad has explained it a couple of times. To Renjun, it seems unremarkable. He doesn’t really understand why there are so many different words for love, but his Dad says people view it differently depending on who it is, and what word you use for it.

_“What word do I use for you, Dad?”_

_His Dad had laughed a little at that, then thought for a minute. “Just say I love you, okay?”_

_“Okay. I love you, Dad.”_

_His Dad had laughed again, and said it back._

 

“I’m okay,” Renjun says, trying not to drag his feet. He knows how much his Dad hates it. “What are we doing after this?”

“I don’t know,” his Dad swings his arm a little, “maybe we could go to the park with Mr Lee and Mark?” 

Renjun just hums. That’s not the answer he wanted.

When they reach the coffee shop, Renjun feels like pulling his Dad backwards, just tugging on his leg until he gets the message that Renjun wants to be at home. He has his backpack, with Moominvalley printed on the front and his Snufkinkeychain dangling on the zip, filled with his coloured pencils. His Dad had said he had to share with Mark if he wanted to use them, but he just hoped Mark wouldn’t be interested in drawing with him.

Renjun’s Dad spots Mr Lee and Mark before he does, and guides them quickly to the table by the window.

“Are we late?” his Dad asks, helping Renjun on to the seat opposite Mark. He notices that Mark has his own colours. Markers. The good kind.

“Not at all, Mark and I were a little early,” Mark’s Dad says, smiling widely. “Hi, Renjun,” he adds. Renjun gives him a small wave.

Renjun feels the nudge on his shoulder, reminding him to be polite. His Dad doesn’t push him to do things often, so when he does, Renjun usually listens.

“Hello, sir. Hi, Mark,” he mumbles.

“Taeyong is fine.” Renjun decides to keep calling him Mr Lee in his head. “Say hi, Mark.”

“Hi, Renjun,” Mark says, nicely. Renjun nods.

“What do you want, Junnie?” His Dad’s voice says into his ear. Renjun looks over at Mark’s drink, in a special adult cup. He wonders what it is, whether he’s drinking coffee, like his Dad always does before work. His Dad always says he can’t have any, that it would keep him up for days, whatever that meant. Uncle Woo always offered him a cup of his special tea, but tea didn’t seem as exciting as coffee, special or not.

“Mark’s drinking a baby-chino,” says Mr Lee. Renjun snaps his head up, scared he’s reading his thoughts. “They’re really good, right, Mark?”

Mark nods. “Wanna try?” he asks, holding the cup to Renjun. Renjun shakes his head, even though he wants to.

“I’ll have juice,” Renjun says, “please.” His Dad nods, getting up and ruffling Renjun’s hair as he goes.

“I’ll watch them,” Mr Lee says, smiling at Renjun’s Dad again. He smiles a lot. Too much. Too much at Renjun’s Dad.

“I brought colours,” Mark says, forcing Renjun to stop watching Mr Lee watching his Dad walking to the counter, “if you wanna draw.”

Renjun looks at Mark’s markers, wishing they were his. He has a green that would be perfect for the trees in Moominvalley.

“I have my own.”

“That’s cool, you can use mine, though. If you need extras.”

Renjun nods. “Thanks,” he says, pulling out his paper and pencils, ready to draw in silence. Before he starts, he looks up once more at Mark’s drink. He bites his lip, fiddles with his paper.

“You okay, there, Renjun? What’re you going to draw?” Mr Lee asks, nicely.

“Could I go to my Dad?” Renjun asks, ignoring the other questions. Mr Lee’s smile fades a little, but he nods. Renjun feels his eyes on him as he goes to his Dad and pulls on his trouser leg.

His Dad looks down, and Renjun ushers him to bend down so he can whisper in his ear. He likes doing this, talking when only his Dad can hear. He likes sharing between the two of them, it’s easier. He likes it when Uncle Woo joins in, but they’re at their best when it’s just the two of them.

Renjun’s Dad leans down, turning his head so Renjun can cup his little hands around his ear, making a funnel to speak into.

“Could I have one of what Mark has, please?” he asks, quietly.

“Of course you can,” his Dad says. He motions for Renjun to turn his head, and he does so. He copies Renjun, putting his large hands around Renjun’s ear and speaking softly, “you okay?”

Renjun turns again, and nods. His Dad smiles.

“That’s my boy.”

Renjun nods again, warmth spreading through his chest.

 

* * *

_Five days earlier..._

 

Taeyong watches him leave. Perhaps he shouldn’t, perhaps it’s inappropriate to check a guy out outside a day-care, where both of their young children were now playing, but he can’t help it. Doyoung is pretty, kind, and from what Taeyong has seen, a good dad (a quality that has become a considerable turn-on for him in the last few years,) and letting him walk away just seems like a waste.

He can’t be sure, of course, that the way he’s looking at Doyoung is a way in which Doyoung would welcome. There’s been hints, of course, there usually is. It had been easier in Canada, but Taeyong had had his fun in Korea before. And he likes Doyoung. Really, truly, wants to talk to him again.

“Hey, wait!” Taeyong says, suddenly, before he can second-guess himself a moment longer. Doyoung turns looking remarkably un-annoyed for a man who is late for work. “Maybe I could tell you about it some other time?” Taeyong swallows. “Over coffee?”

For a moment, Taeyong is sure he’ll say no. There’d been talks of coffee when they’d exchanged numbers in the supermarket, and Taeyong is pretty sure it had been Doyoung that had suggested it. But still, he’s reluctant. Worried that Doyoung hadn’t meant it, was just being polite. The smile he gives is sympathetic, and Taeyong is ready to brush it off, whatever is coming next.

“I work from nine until five on weekdays.”

Taeyong blinks, forgetting himself for a moment. Doyoung tilts his head to the side in question.

“I was thinking Saturday?” Taeyong says, suddenly finding it difficult to look ahead of him. He opts to stare at Doyoung’s feet instead, his eyes attaching to the brown leather. He suddenly feels stupid, in his running shoes and black hoodie. 

“That’s perfect, text me a time and a place, alright? You have my number.”

Taeyong nods, and waves goodbye when Doyoung gets into his car to leave. 

It goes by in a blur. It takes him a few moments to remember he’s meant to be leaving too.

 

* * *

 

_Present day…_

 

An hour, or perhaps several hours, later, the four are still in their booth. Occasionally, Taeyong will touch Doyoung’s hand, just to test where they are. He’ll do it whilst laughing, throwing his hand on the table and ‘accidently’ clipping the other man’s hand.

Doyoung will let him every time, and on the last time, he’ll turn his hand just in time, and let their palms linger together for a moment. Nothing much, not in front of the kids, but enough to force their eyes to lock, something Doyoung believes is understanding between them. His hands are warm.

Mark’s hands are sweaty, as he nudges the green marker a little further on the table, pushing it towards Renjun and hoping he takes it. He’s seen Renjun looking at it, whilst Mark has been drawing a grassy field. He’s put Minhyung in the corner, drinking from a stream. Moomin is hiding behind the tree, watching him.

Renjun spots the Moomin in Mark’s picture. It’s not the best likeness, he’s made his ears a little too big, his tummy too small, but it’s not bad. Maybe Renjun could teach him, in exchange for Mark teaching him how he drew the tree so well.

The adults watch as Mark nudges the green pen towards Renjun, smiling when it hits Renjun’s forearm, the youngest boy’s head snapping up in question.

“You can have this one. It’s my favourite colour.”

Renjun looks shy when he takes it, clutching it closely as if Mark is going to take it back.

“Thanks,” he whispers, and this time, when Mark smiles, he smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> twitter: sobistars (talk to me!!)
> 
> Rest well and stay healthy, friends.


	3. UPDATE- NOT A CHAPTER

hello sweet reader!

for those that care about this au, this is just a little update about the way i'm going to be posting it.

you may have noticed i changed the name of the fic; this is because i have decided that, rather than posting multiple fics under a series, i am going to convert all the storylines into one fic, to help with coherency and to make it easier to keep track. nothing will change, and i have plenty of things to add to this au; including more ships.

i'll delete this little update once i post the new chapter, which HOPEFULLY will be out by the end of august. it won't be dotae focused, but dotae will provail, i promise you. 

i have 101 things going on right now, and about 87 of them are writing-related. i know there's no real demand with any of these things i write, beyond a casual interest, but i set expectations for myself that are probably unfair. i'm trying to be kinder to myself, so i'm not rushing myself on this fic. but i will finish it. i will and it's going to be lovely.

thanks for all the love you've shown so far, i really do appreciate it!

any questions or requests? message me on twitter @ sobistars !!

rest well and stay healthy, friends.


	4. this boy of ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's donghyuck's first day at nursery, but his dad is more nervous than he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy, thanks for being patient.

The day creeps up on him, somehow. They’ve been preparing for weeks, months even. They’ve spoken to just about every person there is to speak to about this, and then some. The daycare, the hospital, his parents, Johnny, Johnny’s parents. He’s counted so meticulously, and somehow he’s here, checking the calendar, seeing the smudgy green scribble on today’s box, and Jaehyun just can’t believe the day has come so soon. 

Johnny’s arms are soon holding him; Johnny’s sixth sense for Jaehyun’s impending meltdowns has been exercised exponentially over the last few years, and even more particularly during the last couple of months. At every corner Jaehyun finds himself at, every moment that starts to drive him just the wrong side of crazy, Johnny is there, only ever a couple of paces behind, holding him steady, reminding him that it is never the end of the world. And it never is. Usually.

Today might just be.

“We should set off early,” Johnny says into Jaehyun’s ear, pecking the lobe when Jaehyun groans, “I booked the day off work, but we want to get there in good time, right?”

Jaehyun nods hesitantly, leaning further into Johnny and continuing to stare at the calendar, as if his gaze has the power to change it. Truth be told, getting there in good time is the least of his worries. It’s the going there at all that is making him want to throw up. Or rather, the piece of them that they’re going to have to leave behind when they go home.

“Is he awake?” Jaehyun decides to ask rather than voicing any of that, trying to make it seem like he’s somewhat okay. Like he’s not about to break out of Johnny’s grip, rush into his son’s room and cry into his hair.

“Yep, he’s picking out his clothes. I said he could,” Johnny adds quickly, when Jaehyun turns a little in his husband’s grasp to raise a judging eyebrow. 

“Great. So, he’s going to rock up to his first day at nursery as a skunk. That’s just great, Johnny.”

Johnny chuckles, and Jaehyun feels it smothered into his neck. “He might not pick the costume.”

“ _ Johnny _ ,” Jaehyun says, scoldingly, “he only ever wears that skunk costume. Why the hell did you even buy it?” 

It’s a question he’s asked half a million times, ever since his son’s phase had begun just after Halloween last year. It isn’t a big deal, really, it’s not like Donghyuck leaves the house much, apart from trips to the hospital, so they rarely have to deal with weird stares as he strolls around as a tiny, toddling skunk. The doctors and nurses all think it’s simply adorable, and they always encourage making Donghyuck as happy as possible, letting him grow up as normal as is possible for a boy like him. It’s something Jaehyun completely empathises with.

But still, the  _ costume.  _ He’s sick of seeing it.

“It was for Halloween!” Johnny says, his one and only defence. Jaehyun is sure he enjoys the sight of their one and only baby running around as baby skunk, or rather the torment it brings Jaehyun. “I didn’t know he’d fall so deeply in love with it!”

“But you knew what you were doing when you taught him to fart on me wearing the costume!”

“That’s what skunks do,” Johnny sniggers, Jaehyun swats him on the arm, “he asked me how to be a skunk!”

“I want a divorce,” Jaehyun says in a serious voice, wriggling out of Johnny’s arms and making his way to the stairs. “I’ll take Hyuck and the dog, you can keep the costume.”

“Ah, come on, give me the dog, at least.”

“Like Hyuck would let you take her.” Jaehyun mounts the stairs, leaving Johnny to mess with his hair in the hallway mirror. 

“Guess all three of you will have to stay with me then!” Johnny calls. “What a bummer!”

Jaehyun snorts, wishing he had something in his hands to throw at Johnny in jest, and jumps up the last few stairs to reach Donghyuck’s bedroom. He smiles, as he always does, at the sign that hangs on the door. Donghyuck and Johnny had made a year ago out of a piece of wood, some string, and probably way too much paint. ‘Donghyuck’ it reads in hangul, then below, ‘Hyuck’ in English, with a smiley face. He’s getting better at the language every day, but Jaehyun is careful not to overwhelm him with it. 

Behind the door, Jaehyun hears a frustrated sigh, followed by a sound of scurrying around and frantic jumping. He knocks once, then twice when he receives no answer. “Hyuckie?” 

“Da,” comes Donghyuck’s voice on the other side of the door, a little too serious for Donghyuck, “don’t come in.”

“What why?”

“Don’t come in,” Donghyuck repeats. 

They don’t have time to play around like this, but Jaehyun smiles in amusement anyway. 

“Do you not want to go, Hyuck?” He leans against the door, pushing his head against the wood.

“I do,” Donghyuck pauses. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? Donghyuck? Let me come in.”

Donghyuck sighs, and Jaehyun hears shuffling behind the door. He lifts his head, waiting. Myunghee, he assumes, is the one he can hear running up and down the room. Jaehyun knows the door isn’t locked, owing to the fact that there isn’t a lock on this door, but he wants to respect Donghyuck’s privacy. His whole life has been an article to be poked and prodded by Doctors and Nurses and Social Workers, so Jaehyun feels the least he can do for his son is give him a little bit of his own space.

When the door opens a crack, Jaehyun expects Donghyuck to slip out. Instead, Donghyuck maintains his ground on the other side, peeking one eye through the gap to look at him, the hood of the onesie he’d slept in hanging a little too low over his face. 

“Hyuckie?” Jaehyun reaches out, but doesn’t move to open the door anymore. “What are you doing?”

“What do people wear to nursery, Da?”

“Whatever they want to,” Jaehyun says, realising the issue at once. “You want… You want your costume? Your dad washed it for you.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “I don’t want to wear the costume today.  _ Jaehyun-1, Johnny-0. _

“Let me come in, I’ll help you find something.”

“It’s a mess, Da,” Donghyuck says guiltily, “you’ll shout.”

“I won’t shout,” Jaehyun assures him sincerely, “your Dad and I will help you tidy when you’re home. Come on, open the door, Myunghee wants to see me.” Jaehyun points to where Myunghee’s golden snout, and Donghyuck’s bare toes, are just peeking out at the base of the door.

Donghyuck sighs again, opening the door wider for Myunghee to rush out. Jaehyun catches her before she can charge him down the stairs, and scratches her tummy when she offers it to him. Donghyuck wonders back into his room, for once seeming not so entranced by her cuteness, and more interested in looking at clothes. 

Sending Myunghee down the stairs to bother Johnny  _ (“Ah, Myunghee, I messed up my hair!” _ ), Jaehyun steps inside Donghyuck’s room, pausing when he sees the catastrophe of Donghyuck’s exploded wardrobe and drawers. T-shirts, shorts, trousers, socks, shoes and hats litter the floor. Jaehyun hadn’t been aware Donghyuck owned all these clothes, but then he supposes both Johnny’s and his own families have always indulged in buying their son things; it was inevitable it would all pile up. 

“I didn’t want to make a mess, but I can’t choose, Da,” Donghyuck says unhappily, dumping himself in the centre of the room, fistfuls of creased shirts and odd-socks in his hands. He looks so worn-out, so early in the day. A pile of jumpers break his fall as he falls back on his butt. “People are gonna look at me weird anyway, they’re gonna know I’m not normal.”  

Jaehyun frowns, having had this conversation before, with both Donghyuck and Johnny. At first, it had been him saying these things, though not quite as harshly. His points to Johnny, when the topic of nursery had come up, had been closer to ‘the kids won’t understand, won’t be careful with him’ and ‘it’ll wear him out. He’ll get sick again.’ Just the fear of Donghyuck simply being looked at strangely was enough for him to almost completely dismiss the idea altogether. As usual, Johnny had calmed him pretty fast, told him he couldn’t protect Donghyuck forever, that it was his time to be a normal kid, that the universe owed it to him. 

And it does, it really does. Jaehyun knows this, knows Donghyuck has to get over this hurdle, and that he needs a leg up to do it. Without another word, Jaehyun moves to route through the remainder of clothes in Donghyuck’s wardrobe. There are a few articles (mostly shorts and dress-shirts), that Donghyuck probably wasn’t able to reach, hanging on the rack. Jaehyung grabs them, looks at the state of the room.  _ It’s completely trashed anyway,  _ he shrugs to himself. Without a second thought, he throws the clothes to Donghyuck’s feet. Donghyuck looks up, confused.

“Let’s start digging,” Jaehyun says simply, getting to his knees in front of the newly created pile. “Let’s give them something to look at, huh?”

Donghyuck smiles a little, the first one of the day that Jaehyun has seen. He pockets it as he does every one of his son’s smiles, never taking one for granted, knowing how priceless they are.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Jaehyun wakes slowly, lets himself stretch and feel his way into consciousness. He feels disoriented in the best way possible; it’s still light outside meaning he hasn’t slept the whole day away, but he feels well-rested after his nap. The traces of this morning’s panic have been washed away. There’s a lightness, where his stress used to be. 

This morning, after he and Donghyuck had decided on what to wear (they’d opted for three-quarter length blue shorts and a soft cotton t-shirt that said ‘chocolate milk motivated’), Johnny had driven the three of them, plus Myunghee who had insisted on coming too, to Donghyuck’s new nursery; Dream Daycare. They’d spotted Johnny’s colleague Doyoung and his son Renjun pretty quickly, and Donghyuck had been relieved, having met Renjun a couple of times in the past. He was flanked by another kid, taller than Donghyuck though just as chatty, who introduced himself to everyone as Mark.

Mark’s Dad, Taeyong, had been chatting with Doyoung, and spoke politely to Johnny and Jaehyun for a while as they waited for the nursery doors to open. Jaehyun had kept a nervous eye on Donghyuck, as he chatted away to Renjun and his new friend, but every so often Johnny had touched his arm to soothe him, silently telling him he didn’t need to bounce on the soles of his feet, that they were fine; everything was okay.

When the doors had finally opened, and the gaggle of children had run to be the first to hang up their coats, Mark included (Renjun had stayed back to hug his Dad first, and wave politely to the other adults, before following Mark inside), Jaehyun had clutched Donghyuck’s hood to make him wait a moment.

They’d said their goodbyes quickly, not wanted to embarrass him or themselves, and spoken to Taeil, the day-care worker on duty, who assured them that all of the staff were aware of Donghyuck’s condition, and understood the extra care they had to take with him. It’d been discreet, but sincere, and Jaehyun had appreciated it. Johnny had thanked him for the both of them with a bow, kissed Donghyuck’s face until he was blushing, then pulled Jaehyun lightly back to the car, where they’d sat in silence for a few moments, a few stray tears caught in their eyes. 

Jaehyun rolls over when he feels Myunghee stirring beside him, ready to scoop up the dog in his arms and cuddle her for while before he has to get up and check the time. Or, at least, try and get as much of her as he can into her arms; she’s not the tiny golden retriever puppy she used to be. 

Once he turns, Jaehyun is surprised to find Donghyuck in the bed, curled into Myunghee’s form, still in his t-shirt and shorts, one of his tiny cotton-ball fists clutching the dog’s golden fur, the other hand raised, his thumb in his mouth. Jaehyun smiles at the sight of his furrowed brow as he no doubt travels across the plane of a bad dream. 

Jaehyun reaches out, smoothes out the crease with a soft stroke of his thumb, arranges Donghyuck’s soft hair off of his forehead. Myunghee wakes in the process, and starts trying to move from Donghyuck’s grip now she can see Jaehyun is awake.

“Are you keeping him safe, Myunghee?” Jaehyun says, fondly. It’s something they’ve always said, always assured Donghyuck that Myunghee is here to watch over him, to be the best friend in place of all the best friends he hasn’t been able make. Myunghee has been a best friend for all of them, really.

“He wanted to wake you after nursery, to tell you about his day,” comes a voice from the doorway. Johnny, Jaehyun confirms, is leaning in the doorway, observing the scene. “I told him he had to wait until you woke up, I guess the day tired him out too much to wait.”

“Did it go well?”

“It went amazingly. He’s made loads of new friends, Jaehyun. He loves it.”

Jaehyun smiles, feeling genuinely relieved. It’s like letting go of a breath he’s been holding for months. 

“What time is it?”

“Five. We got home about half an hour ago.”

“You could have woken me.” Jaehyun goes back to stroking Donghyuck’s hair, feeling pride in his wonderful, beautiful, amazing son. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I was coming up to do that, we should start cooking dinner. But you all look so soft I kinda wanna jump in the bed with you and forget everything else.”

Jaehyun budges closer to Donghyuck, careful not to rouse him. “Jump away,” he tells Johnny, laughing when Johnny does just that, and it sends Myunghee into a blind panic. She leaps over Jaehyun to tell Johnny off, yelping when he grabs her around the middle and cuddles her so tight she can barely squirm. 

“Got you now, pup. Try something, I dare you,” Johnny says seriously, and Jaehyun has to bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Shh, you’ll wake Hyuck!”

“Mm,” comes Donghyuck’s sleepy voice at that moment. Jaehyun turns back to him.

“Hello, sleepy baby. Have a good nap?” he says softly, smiling at Donghyuck’s puffy eyes as they crack open.

“Mm,” Donghyuck pouts grumpily, shifting himself to snuggle into Jaehyun’s chest. Without thinking, Jaehyun maneuvers his arms to wrap around him, holding his baby close to him and tucking his head into his hair. Johnny’s arm comes to wrap around him, locking them in. Myunghee shifts, climbing over Jaehyun and finding a spot closer to Hyuck, licking his face a few times by way of ensuring his safety. She curls around him as best she can, and begins dozing again happily.

“You feel okay?” Johnny says softly, poking his foot into Jaehyun’s calf in an attempt to tangle their legs together. Jaehyun holds up one leg slightly, letting Johnny slot his in and hold him more comfortably. Jaehyun brings one arm from the tangle of limbs and dog hair so he can reach to pat Johnny’s hand.

“Never better,” he says, happily, meaning it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for a little bit of context; i've left donghyuck's condition ambiguous because it isn't a Major Deal, just note that he's been a bit of a poorly boy. he's fine now, though, hence why he's ready for nursery!! 
> 
> talk to me on twitter, @ sobistars
> 
> rest well and stay healthy, friends.


	5. ten and two halves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten doesn't like kids. Or his dad. The thought of looking after his dad's kids? quite repulsive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello. welcome back. good to be here again!

“Son? Did you hear me?”

Ten’s Dad’s voice rings in his ears. For the moment, he’s focusing on trying to process what he’s saying, what he’s asking.

“I said your Mother-”

“Not my mother,” Ten manages to remind him. 

His Father sighs through the phone. It’s nine in the morning, and he’s not easy in the mornings. He softens somewhat in the afternoon, sometimes enough for Ten to want actually spend time with him. Rare, but known to be bearable on occasion.

“Your _Step-_ Mother,” he continues, carefully, “isn’t well. And I need you to look after your brothers for a while.”

Ten sighs this time. He’d thought that was what his Dad had said, but he’d wanted to make sure. Now that it’s been confirmed, he’s not sure exactly how to feel about the favour his Dad is asking of him.

He’s met his brothers, (his _half-brothers_ , he corrects himself), all of three times. They’re four, which is pretty much enough to put him off them entirely. The fact that their Mum hates him, doesn’t help much either. Not to mention the fact that they’re basically living the life he never got a chance to; rich beyond knowledge, carefree, parents together, happy. It’s enough to make a man, a lot less bitter than him, angry and resentful.

He can’t hate them, not when they’re four and don’t even know how lucky they are, but he can’t help but feel the way he does. Towards his Dad, probably. Yeah, mostly towards his Dad.

“I can’t do that,” he says, firmly, ready to dismiss any comeback his Father has lined up.

“And why-ever not?” The tone suggests he’d expected resistance, and Ten hates that.  

“I have a life,” Ten splutters a little. It’s a downright lie. “I don’t have time to be raising four-year olds.” 

“Oh?” His Dad sounds amused, and it stings. “Found a job, have you? Is your monthly allowance from your step-mother and I no longer necessary?”

“Well, no, but-”

“I would have thought you’d need something to fill your days, since your knee is keeping you from the dance instructing.” _Ouch. Sore cord._ “How long did they say you’d be out of action?”

“At least another year,” Ten grumbles, bitterly.

“Well, then. You should be begging for something to do. They’re not strenuous children, or so I’m told. They need bathing, feeding, taking to nursery, things like that.”

 _All the things you refuse to do,_ Ten thinks, but doesn’t say for want of ending the conversation, _all the things you never once tried to do for me_. “I don’t even know the kids.”

“They’re you’re brothers.”

“ _Half-_ brothers.”

“I wish you’d stop focusing on the semantics. Ten, I need them looking after. Your- _Their_ mother doesn’t want them being taken care of by a stranger.”

“And she’d rather have me?”

His father clears his throat, and something about that tells Ten that his step-mother doesn’t know this phone conversation is happening.

“We have yet to discuss it.” Code for: we will not be discussing it until you agree, and everything is arranged.

 _Well._ As much as he really doesn’t want to do this, the thought of pissing off his step-mother is really… quite enticing. Not to mention the subtle threat about his allowance. Ten allows himself one more moment of thought, enjoying his last few seconds of freedom, before he continues.

“Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll look after them.” 

“Excellent! Jeno and Jaemin will be thrilled!”

 

* * *

 

The day his half-brothers are due to arrive, it’s Ten’s seventh lap around the coffee table (two carboard boxes covered with a white cloth), before his roommate decides he’s had enough.

“Will you sit the fuck down,” says Yuta, pushing Ten with his foot so he can continue watching the tv, “they’re not due for another hour at least.”

“43 minutes,” Ten corrects him, but dumps himself down on the sofa, realising it doesn’t matter. He’s not sure why he’s nervous, exactly. He shouldn’t be, it’s not like he’s alone on this; Yuta had readily agreed to help him out with the kids, seemed to actually relish at the prospect of meeting is ‘half-kind-of-brothers.’ It’d meant a lot to Ten, to know his best-friend, and basically brother, of fifteen years, was so willing to help him out with a task he really wasn’t willing to complete himself. 

The diagnosis of his step-mother, not that he had particular interest, was some kind of tropical disease that Ten couldn’t even pronounce. The treatment called for an undetermined period of rest, as well as avoidance of stress as far as possible. His father, therefore, had not given him an accurate estimation of how long his brothers would need to be under his care.

It would be long enough, though, apparently, that it was warranted to temporarily enrol the pair of them at the closest day-care to Ten’s flat. Due to his having no job, nor anything else that filled his days, this wasn’t strictly necessary. He was always free, all the time. He’d be around for the boys non-stop. But the thought of readily admitting what a failure of a life he had, to his father, who reminded him often enough anyway, quite frankly repulsed him.

“Hey,” Yuta says softly, reaching out his arm to usher Ten closer, “it’s gonna be okay, you know. I’m sure your step-mum will recover in no time.”

Ten breathes a laugh. “Yeah, like I care about her.” He shuffles closer to Yuta and lets his head fall on his shoulder. Yuta responds in kind, moving to accommodate Ten snuggling into his side and resting his arm on the back of the sofa.

“I know, but I mean, they’ll be going back home soon, you know? you won’t have to look after them forever.”

“I guess.”

“I bet she’ll be wanting to get them back off you sooner rather than later, given that she hates your guts and all.”

“Thanks, man. That really makes me feel better. 

“I’m here for you, pal.” Yuta raises his hand for Ten to take. “Through all of it, I’ll be here to help you raise those little gremlins, for however long you have to.”

Ten snorts, taking Yuta’s hand, grateful for the contact. “I’m hoping it won’t be long enough to warrant the word ‘raising’.”

His best friend's laugh is a relief; a warm wash of familiar affection. The last few days, the time following the phone call from his Dad, have been particularly dark. Thoughts he’d built up a resistance to the last few years seemed to have been unleashed from the carpet he’d swept them under, just from a single phone call. It was odd, because Ten could have sworn he’d burnt that musty, old carpet.

It was okay, for the most part; the feelings of abandonment, hurt and crippling self-confidence issues that came only from being rejected by a parent at an early age. It was quite bearable, if only he surrounded himself with good friends, and didn’t beat himself up over the fact that despite the resentment he felt towards his Father, he still took his money every month, keeping the link between them intact and ever-present.

He convinced himself it was his way of getting back at him, and annoying his step-mother with the constant reminder of his existence; the remanence of her husband’s life before her. However low it was to take money from a man he’d grown up to love and hate in a bitter juxtaposition, Ten took a sort of twisted comfort in it when he thought of it that way. Sometimes, it almost washed the rest of the bad thoughts away. 

There was one bad thought, however, that he couldn’t wash away, but that, equally, he never tried to erase. He kept it high on a shelf in his mind, wouldn’t let anyone, even himself, touch it. He kept it encased, and no matter how many times his Father called him and reminded him of his past, he would never let himself think about it. About _her._ He wouldn’t miss her, wouldn’t let himself ever yearn for her. Because missing your Mother, Ten had decided not even minutes after she’d passed away, was the worst pain there was.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Yuta says, oblivious to the quiet rumble of Ten’s overactive mind. Or perhaps he knows, and that’s why he's suggested it. “We have enough time to hear Barbara Streisand’s part of _His Love_ , if we start it now.”

“Is that how we’re measuring time now?” Ten asks, groaning a little when Yuta gets up to put on the film, leaving his head unsupported. He rests it on the back of the sofa instead, looking up at his best friend. “By the timestamp of songs in Funny Girl?”

Yuta glances at him, half-way to putting in the DVD that takes pride of place in their extensive musical collection, confusion evident on his face. “Is there any other way to do it?” he asks sincerely. 

“Not one that precedes yours, Master-Time.”

“ _Master_ ,” Yuta says thoughtfully, throwing himself back at the sofa, his head falling into Ten’s lap, “I like the sound of that.”

“You’re gross.” Ten pushes Yuta’s fringe into his face. “No weird kinky-thoughts whilst my brothers are here.”

“That sentence was equally as gross.”

“Watch the movie, stupid.”

“Sure, babe. And that’s Master, to you.”

 

* * *

 

 

They arrive somewhere in the middle of Fanny Bryce’s reprise of _Don’t Rain On My Parade_ , and it makes Ten jump to hear the buzzer of the apartment go; he’d almost forgotten anyone was coming, what with the sing-along he and Yuta had decided to have. 

It’s sickeningly sobering, to see his Dad standing in the hallway of the flat he’s kept distinctly Dad-Free since he and Yuta moved in two years ago (considering his Dad half-pays for the place, it’s kind of weird he’s never been here before, but even weirder now he’s here.)

Thankfully, he doesn’t stay long, insists that he has to get back home, but that they’ll talk more when he comes to check on the twins, sometime next week.

_Sometime next week._

The words strike another cord in Ten’s brain. It’s exactly what his Father used to say in regard to coming to see him, back when it was just him and his mum living in their tiny, but warm and homely, flat. This flat is nothing like that one, a little bigger, but nowhere near as homely, but still Ten prefers it to wherever it is that his Father is living these days. He’d sooner live in a cardboard box than have to live _there._

“I emailed you the instructions about their bed times, and morning routines and what-not. Any questions, Jaemin should be able to answer, but if you have to, call me. I’m going to be busy at work for the next few weeks, but leave a voicemail if it’s pressing.”

Ten nods along to clinical churning of his father’s voice, looking at the twins and taking in their matching cashmere jumpers. Jeno, (he thinks, he’s not actually 100% on which is which) is the taller of the two, though not by much. They’re not identical at all, but are wearing the same expression; tiny frowns that look more sheepish than critical of the surroundings. That’s something, Ten supposes; better them shy than snobs. For a moment, Jaemin catches Ten’s eye, and Ten can’t help but give a tiny, reassuring smile.

“Ten, did you hear me? I wish you wouldn’t go blank on me like that.”

Snapping his head up, Ten meets his Father’s critical gaze. “What?”

“ _I said,_ ” the inflection makes Ten wince, “that I expect all three of you to be on your best behaviours.”

There’s an irony there, somewhere, that Ten’s Dad is treating them all like they’re four years old, when he probably hasn’t the faintest memory of what Ten was even like at that age (not that Ten can, either, but that’s not the point.)

“I’m 26, Dad. I think I’ll be fine.”

“And yet, you’re the one that worries me most.” His father doesn’t spare a minute before he continues, resting a hand briefly on Jaemin and Jeno’s heads in turn, by way of good-byes. “I’ll see you all next week.” 

The twins barely glance behind them, instantly latching to one another the second the door closes behind their father. They look at Ten, eyes expectant and slightly unsure. Or maybe that’s just the way Ten is reading them; he’s not sure you read kids the way you read adults. Maybe you’re not meant to read them at all. He’s sure he’ll know by the time this week is up.

“So…” he starts lamely, clapping his hands together. “You wanna take your shoes off and throw your bags in my room?” He motions to the two cases at the boy’s feet, identical apart from the cat on Jeno’s case, and the bear on Jaemin’s. Ten can’t remember ever even having a suitcase during his childhood.

The boys nod, picking up their things. They haven’t said a word the whole time, bar a single “hello” from each of them when Ten had opened the door and ushered them inside. He can’t remember them being particularly loquacious the last time he’d met them, but they’d been younger then, and he’d excused it.

“You guys can take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the sofa, okay?” he says at the doorway of the bedroom, whilst the boys shuffle around each other, laying down their suitcases and back-packs at the foot of the bed. They nod in unison, still quiet. Ten frowns, wondering how he could possibly make this more awkward. He’s just speaking, and it feels wrong. It’s like talking to his dad, only worse, because he doesn’t actually hate these kids. He just…

 _Just_.

“Where are they, then?” Comes Yuta’s voice from the living room, and the two boy’s eyes go wide for a moment.

“It’s okay,” Ten assures them, “that’s just my roommate, Yuta. He’s nice,” he adds, when their faces don’t ease. “He’s gonna help me look after you guys.”

 Ten finds it unsettling; how in sync they are with their fear of him, of this place. He can’t even guess at what is making them so uncomfortable, but it’s making him nervous. How he’s meant to deal with this for the rest of the weekend, let alone the next few weeks, is beyond him.

“Come meet him,” he says, desperately, motioning towards the door. They follow shyly, Jaemin pushing Jeno slightly to get him into the hallway. Ten steps back to let them through, forcing a smile when they look up at him. 

Yuta is waiting in the living room, the film paused on Nick Arnstein’s face. “Hey! I’m Yuta!” he says brightly, waving them in as they shuffle into the living room.

It’s a big room; about half the length of the entire flat, with a small kitchen and dining table squeezed at the end. It’s kind of empty, now that Ten is looking at it from their perspective, but there’s film posters on the walls, a DVD rack filled to the brim, a bookshelf beside it. He doesn’t know why, but he feels embarrassed suddenly, protective. As if these four-year olds are about to judge him for his home. 

“You guys want something to drink?” Ten asks, as Yuta holds his hand out for one of them to shake. Jaemin looks at him, nods. “Urm, Jeno? You too?”

Jeno looks up, his tiny hand caught in Yuta’s. Ten is relieved he got the names right. “Please, um-” Jeno looks at Jaemin desperately.

Jaemin seems to understand the look and continues for him. “What should we call you?”

“Oh.” The question stuns Ten a little, makes him realise that they’ve never actually formally introduced themselves; they were just under two last time he saw them. “You can call me Hyung, if you want to. But my name is Ten, and you can call me that. I don’t mind.”

This obviously puzzles them, and Yuta sniggers a little, but hides it behind a hand as he moves towards the kitchen.

“Is that your real name?” Jaemin asks, eyes narrowed. “That’s what Dad calls you, but I didn’t think people were called stuff like that.”

It’s the most either of them has ever said to him, and it sound distinctly more human than the conversations they’ve had thus far. The fact that their Dad is mentioned, though, still makes Ten wince. 

“I’m Thai,” he pauses, clears his throat, “my mum was Thai. We don’t use our real names, we choose nicknames. Mine is Ten.” 

“Oh,” says Jeno quietly, as if he has a lot more questions he’d like to ask, but once Yuta returns with two bottles of water, he doesn’t continue. Ten isn’t sure whether he’s grateful for that or not. 

“Should we watch a movie or something?” asks Yuta, breaking the awkward silence that has fallen. Ten has a sneaking suspicion the silence will become a staple of their time together, but he appreciates Yuta’s effort.

“You kids ever seen Funny Girl?” Yuta continues. Both boys shake their heads. “How’s your English?” They glance at each other and back again, shrug with blank looks on their faces. “Perfect!” Yuta exclaims, motioning to the sofa and moving to restart the film. “Let’s watch that then!”

Ten sighs, watching as the twins shuffle together warily to sit on the sofa. Whilst Jaemin watches Yuta critically; the man’s butt shaking wildly as he hums the tune of The Greatest Star, Jeno glances back to look at Ten. For a moment, Ten feels uncomfortable and silently debates leaving the room and spending the rest of the afternoon in the toilet live-tweeting his feelings. But something about the innocence in the younger boy’s face makes him stay. For the first time, it strikes him that these kids are his family. A part of him, the awkwardness with his Dad be damned, that he can’t run from. 

“Thank you for letting us stay, Hyung,” Jeno says quietly, then quickly turns back to the screen, where the opening titles are now playing. Ten stands in the middle of the room for a moment more, watching his brothers (and Yuta) sit quietly together, and then finds himself sitting the in the big, squishy chair nearest the TV, settling down to watch the movie with them.

 

* * *

 

“I bet this is gonna be so weird, going to school again when you’re grown up. I bet the hall-ways will look so tiny! And the little plastic chairs! It’s gonna look so cute and small and-”

“ _Yuta_ ,” Ten says, the tiredness obvious in his voice (seriously, 7am is a disgusting time to have to wake up) “you didn’t even go here. And it’s not a school. It’s a day-care.”

“Ah, stop being so grumpy, it’s the boys first day! They’re excited!”

Ten glances at the back seats of Yuta’s car. The boys, in the matching car-seats their dad had left in the hallway before he left, are sleeping soundlessly. Ten can’t blame them, it had been a late night for all of them. He’d tried to cook stir fry; something simple that wasn’t pizza or something else loaded with e-numbers and whatever else you weren’t supposed to fill kids with. It had been going great, until Yuta had distracted him, and the food had started to burn, setting the fire alarm off and causing an evacuation of the whole floor. 

Otherwise, though, babysitting was going great.

“You gonna miss them today?” Yuta says, a smug sort of knowing in his voice.

“What? You think I’m gonna cry at the gate like I’m their Dad?”

Yuta shrugs. “I figured after a whole weekend looking after them, you’d be used to having them around.”

“I dunno,” Ten considers for a moment. It’s certainly gotten easier, but he’s far from used to having two extra people to care for. Yuta is already enough work all on his own. “I guess. I figured I’d nap today, I’m pretty excited about it.”

One of the boys stirs behind them, and Ten whips his head round. Jeno, for a moment, stretches his arms, but then lets them fall back, his mouth hanging open slightly. His eyes stay closed. It would be kind of cute, if Ten cared about that sort of thing. He turns back quickly, before his heart starts fluttering, or something gross like that.

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” he says, firmly, even though Yuta hadn’t questioned his first answer. “It’s coming up on your right,” he adds, even though Yuta had already indicated. His cheeks feel a little hot, for some reason, and he’s well aware of Yuta’s smug grin.

The grin lingers when they pull up in the day-care car park, and Ten gets out to fumble with the twin’s belts. All the clips confuse him, and he grows impatient when the strap locks and Jeno is pinned uncomfortably to his chair. “Sorry, kid, lemme just-” Ten tries to pull the belt, but it stays stuck.

After a few moments of this, Jaemin leans over and easily unclips Jeno. He, apparently, has freed himself, which Ten thinks should be a little concerning, but he decides not to mention that. He’s much too tired, he’s ready to drop them off, get home and sleep. He hopes Yuta doesn’t have a movie marathon planned for today.

“Hop out, then. Let’s get you both in.”

Yuta is the one who leads the boys, Jeno clinging to his right hand, Jaemin his left, to the door of the day-care. Ten trails along behind, feeling like the odd one out as Yuta swings the boy’s arms and chides them about their first day. He’s a natural with them, it’s turned out. They love him. Ten can’t decide how he feels about it. 

A man greets them at the front door, and Ten jogs a little to catch up, so he can hear what’s being said. The man has a soft voice, and he’s wearing a soft, fuzzy cardigan. He looks like he was born to work in a place like this. 

“I’m Sicheng, you boys must be Jeno and Jaemin,” he says, giving them wide smile, showing off a row of tiny teeth. He’s cute. Not quite Ten’s type, but probably-

“Hi, I’m Yuta,” Yuta says in a voice that Ten has come to recognise as his flirting voice. He internally rolls his eyes. Yep. Yuta’s type, for sure.

“Hello,” Sicheng’s voice is a fraction quieter as he addresses the adults. He peers round Yuta to see Ten. “So, you must be Ten, the boy’s brother.”

“Half-brother. Yeah. Hi.” Ten gives a tiny bow in greeting and Sicheng nods his head, and smiles a little wider. “They’re in great hands here, you don’t have to worry about leaving them today.”

“Great.” Ten claps his hands together, stuck for how good-byes are meant to go in this situation. “Urm, so, you boys okay to go inside?”

The twins look up at him and nod.

“Awesome, see you later, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

The boys nod again and let themselves be ushered inside by Sicheng. Yuta watches them as they leave.

“Well that was heartfelt,” Yuta says after a moment.

“Can we go?”

“Just hold on a sec, there’s some stuff I wanna ask that guy.”

“Like what? ‘What’s your phone number?’”

If Yuta was capable of feeling embarrassed, he might have blushed. “Well, it might come in handy! If the boys need us, or something.”

“They have my number, Yuta, come on lets-” Ten stops dead as he spots _him_ , standing across from him in the car park, chatting happily to the boy next to him.

“What’s wrong? What is it?” Yuta looks in the direction that Ten is stuck on, and whistles. “He’s _hot._ Fuck. Wait, isn’t that-”

“Yep, my old dance captain,” Ten says, rooted to the spot as he waits for his old friend, his ex- _well._ His ex-something. He hadn’t been entirely sure what it had been at the time, and it’s grown hazy in the last six or so years since they last saw each other. Getting each other off in the showers of the dance school they both attended hardly warranted a title, and neither of them had ever been quick to discuss those sorts of things. But still, Ten had liked him. Had really enjoyed the time they spent together. Not to mention the fact that he was a brilliant dance captain, and when he’d suddenly upped and left, it had hit him and the team hard. “Taeyong.”

“Wow, I thought he moved to Canada. Did you know he was back in Korea?”

Ten shakes his head, watching as Taeyong lightly bumps the boy beside him, as if he’s just told a joke. The kid can’t be more than six, not if he’s coming to day-care. Ten remembers, suddenly, with a kind of stab to his chest, of the rumour he heard about a year or so after Taeyong left for Canada; that he’d gotten some girl pregnant and was going to raise the baby over there. He’d scoffed when he’d heard it, not quite believing it.

He doesn’t look much like Taeyong, the kid, but he’s got the same sort of boyish-charm about his face. Taeyong isn’t as obviously toned as he was back then, but he’s still slim. Healthy. He looks happy, not restless like he’d always been when he was younger. Like he was constantly waiting for a train. Now, he looked like three trains had come at once.

Taeyong doesn’t spot him immediately, but when he does, there’s a flick of realisation in his eyes. He doesn’t stop smiling, but his eyes seem to stick to Ten and it makes Ten shiver uncomfortably. 

“You gonna be alright? You wanna go?” Yuta says, patting Ten’s arm.

“I’ll be okay. I wanna talk to him.”

“Sure, whatever you want. I’ll just… I’ll go talk to Sicheng.”

Ten nods, lingering awkwardly as Taeyong approaches. He hangs back as Taeyong hugs the boy goodbye. The kid is practically bouncing as Taeyong lets him go.

“You got your drink?” Taeyong says. His voice is the same, maybe a little softer than it was six years ago. “And one for Renjun?”

The kid pulls his bag off his back and pulls out two bottles of something Ten can’t make out. He shouldn’t be watching this exchange, he realises. He’s being nosey. He turns away and pretends to be interested in the bird he’s just spotted in the tree. 

“Hey,” he hears after a moment. He turns back to find Taeyong standing, still a little way from him, bouncing awkwardly on the soles of his feet, hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans.

“Hi,” Ten answers. “I didn’t know you were back in Korea,” he continues, when Taeyong doesn’t say anything else.

“Yeah, I haven’t really… broadcast it, I guess.”

“So, that’s your son, huh?” Ten nods towards the door. “I didn’t actually believe it when I heard!”

“Yeah. It’s been... a wild few years, I guess.” Taeyong visibly cringes at his choice of words. “Where did you hear about…”

“Taemin told me,” Ten answers quickly, “your families stay in touch, right?”

Taeyong nods.

For a moment, that’s all that happens. The air suddenly feels more chill, and Ten is suddenly really eager to find out where Yuta is and when the hell they can go home. Taeyong is great, and Ten remembers all of their best times, but he also remembers how awkward Taeyong can be when he’s nervous or uncomfortable, and the years don’t seem to have erased that. 

“Well I should really-”

“You wanna get some coffee? Catch up?” Taeyong says abruptly, stopping Ten from moving away. “Just as friends, I’ve missed you.”

Ah. The _Just_ _As Friends_ coffee date. Ten never thought he’d have one of those with Taeyong. Then again, he’d pretty much resigned himself to never seeing the guy again. It takes him embarrassingly little time to answer, struck by the suddenness of Taeyong’s arrival and his own loneliness. He’s not sure he’s attracted to Taeyong anymore; too much has happened to him, to both of them, for any of their initial spark to linger. It’s just coffee, with a friend. And Ten really likes coffee.

 “Sure, you’re paying, Captain Canada.”

 

* * *

 

Ten ends up paying for his own drink, even though Taeyong insists on buying them both large cups of hot chocolate. It’s a cold day, but not cold enough to warrant them reverting back to childhood and drinking hot chocolate. Ten tells Taeyong as much, but he merely shrugs, and buys his with extra whipped cream. Ten gets his black coffee, and they find a little booth in which to chat.

“I didn’t even know you were bi,” Ten says, once they’re settled. It’s perhaps a little forward, but he can’t imagine the pair of them having an actual conversation before they clear up the matter of the son.

Taeyong, thankfully, takes the question in his stride. “I’m not. Well, I don’t know, maybe I am? I always thought I was gay. 

Ten nods. “Sexuality is a spectrum; my roommate is pan. It’s no big deal.”

“I guess not.”

Ten figures the door is open for invasive questions, so he continues, “the mum, is she not-”

“Back in Canada,” Taeyong says, shortly. It’s the only time in the last hour he’s sounded guarded, or annoyed. Ten doesn’t think the annoyance is directed towards him, but his eyes still go wide at the forceful tone. “Sorry. But seriously, she’s better off there, and I’m better off here.”

Ten nods again, sipping his drink and grimacing at the bitter taste. He throws in a couple of sugar packets. “And your son?”

“Mark. Juries out on where he’s better off.”

“He seemed happy enough, bouncing around this morning. 

Taeyong smiles into his drink. It’s cute. “So, what about you? What were you doing at the day-care? Do you-” 

“My half-brothers,” Ten answers quickly, before Taeyong can even ask the question. “My dad remarried 6 years ago. My step mum is sick, so I’m looking after them for a while.”

“How’s that going?”

“Juries out.”

It’s Taeyong who nods this time, and suddenly, his look of awkwardness is back, and he stares into Ten’s drink like he can’t bear to look at him anymore. “Ten look, I’m sorry I didn’t stay in contact. Going to Canada... it was rash.”

“You got a great job opportunity, no one blamed you for going.”

“I’m not talking about the dance team. Well, I am. But also, you know. Us. I’m apologising for leaving you. I heard about your mum, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Taeyong,” Ten says, and almost smiles when Taeyong glances up at him again, puppy dog eyes he’d never quite forgotten boring into him. “We weren’t even dating. I was sad, sure. Maybe a little mad. But you don’t have to feel guilty or upset about it, seriously. You would have been dumb not to jump at the chance you got, you had a bright future.”

“Yeah, then I got a girl pregnant,” the words are almost sulky.

“Still looks pretty bright to me.”

The smile that gets is larger than the last. “Thanks.”

“So,” Ten continues, now that they’re on a roll. “How about now? What’s happening for you? Apart from raising your sprog?”

“Well…” Taeyong shifts, like he’s not sure it’s something he should be saying. “There’s kind of a guy I’ve been seeing.”

“Yeah?” Ten is relieved to find himself not even the least bit jealous. 

“Yeah... or, I don’t know. Does it count as dating if you both bring your kids to the dates?" 

“I don’t know. I guess it could, if you like him and he feels the same. Is he bi?”

“I think so. He’s not married, he told me… He said it was complicated.”

“Yikes, baggage.”

“He’s worth it, I think.” Ten doesn’t miss the gleam in Taeyong’s eye when he says it.

“Aw, having a baby has made you soft. 

Taeyong laughs, swatting Ten with a napkin. It almost feels like old times, back when they were properly _Just Friends._ “It’ll make you soft too.”

“Nah, kids don’t have that effect on me. Besides, when am I ever gonna have a kid?”

“You could adopt?” Taeyong suggests, and Ten snorts.

“I have a better chance of getting a dude pregnant than I do of convincing someone giving me a child.”

“Your dad gave you one. Gave you two.”

“Yeah, well. he’s crazy, and desperate. He’ll regret it when I mess them up.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“I don’t know… Look, if I tell you something, promise you won’t like, think I’m a piece of shit or whatever?”

“Depends what you tell me, but go for it.”

Ten takes a breath. “I just… I know they’re kids, and it’s not their fault, but part of me kinda just, doesn’t like them? Not for them, they’re probably great kids. I don’t like kids, but I don’t hate individuals, just kids as a concept. But them? I don’t know, I just feel this… I feel weird. Because they’re my dad’s kids but not my mum’s and it feels wrong. You know?”

Taeyong nods, quietly, as if he knows Ten has more to say.

“I wanna love them and like… I wanna be a brother. I see Yuta being all great with them and they love him even after two days. But I don’t know how to be that big brother to them when I can’t get over this weird thing with my dad.”

“I’m not gonna pretend I understand, Ten. Because it’s a unique situation. But I think it’s natural you’d feel weird around them.”

Ten nods, grateful to be listened to.

“But you have to remember that these kids… they’re innocent. They’ve done nothing. They didn’t ask to be your dad’s sons, or your brothers, or any of it. They’re just kids, existing, you know?" 

“I know,” Ten sighs, tapping his fingers against his coffee cup and sitting back a little in the booth. “I wanna be a good brother." 

“I’m sure you will be, it’ll just take some time to adjust. If you need a hand, I’m here for you. I’m not great at the dad thing, but I get better every day. And you learn on the job, that’s what Doyoung always says.”

“Doyoung?”

“Yeah, that’s the guy I told you about." 

“Kim Doyoung?”

“Yeah.” Taeyong narrows his eyes. “You know him?”

“I used to work with him, back when I was figuring out what I wanted to do.” Ten remembers all the hours of fetching coffees, sitting in on meetings that had sucked the soul out of him. Remembers Kim Doyoung being a strict but fair boss, even kind of cute when he pushed his hair back and got all serious. “Turns out being an accountant was not it.”

“You guys are still friends?”

Ten shrugs. “We go out for drinks sometimes. He’s close with a friend of mine, Johnny, so I still see him on occasion. Why, you want me to hook you guys up?” 

“No!” Taeyong flushes red. “Well, maybe? I don’t know. I’m crap at the dating thing. I don’t know if I’m meant to like… court him, or whatever? Ask him on a real date.”

“One where your children aren’t present?”

“That might be more romantic." 

“His son goes to the same day-care, right?” 

“Yeah, why?”

Ten shrugs innocently. “Just figuring that we’re gonna be seeing each other a lot. I’ll be around to… suss you guys out.”

“You’re weird. This is weird.”

Ten snorts, and Taeyong cracks a smile, and it’s comfortable.

 

* * *

 

It’s nearing the evening before Ten actually tells Yuta about his coffee date with Taeyong, that had turned into brunch, that had turned into returning to their old studio to say hi to the instructors and old mentors (Taemin was choreographing in Japan now. Both Ten and Taeyong admitted to having had a massive crush on him, way back when), which, in turn, had turned into picking up the kids from day-care together.

They’d seen Doyoung, of course, whilst they were waiting outside the doors of the day-care, looking serious as ever. But even if Taeyong had, Ten didn’t fail to notice the slight softening of Doyoung’s face when he’d seen Taeyong. Their attraction to one another was obvious, albeit awkward and unsure of itself. The blushes exchanged between the two of them was enough for Ten to intervene, and declare the following night as their date night, offering to take care of the kids for the night so they could both enjoy themselves. Johnny and Jaehyun would help, he was sure. He hoped. Four kids were quite a lot. Five, if the golden couple brought their kid along too. 

“So, you’re telling me, not only did you abandon me, your best friend, to go get coffee with your ex, but that you’re also expecting me to help you look after your ex’s son tomorrow night, in addition to the two other kids I am currently helping you raise, so that he can hook up with your ex-boss?” Yuta doesn’t sound particularly angry. He’d feigned being hurt that Ten had abandoned him at the day-care, before Ten had reminded him that it wasn’t like he hadn’t left the car for Yuta to drive home in, and sent him a text telling him he wasn’t coming home until later.

“We’re also looking after the ex-boss’s kid,” Ten reminds him, “Also, don’t say hook up in front of the kids.”

Jaemin and Jeno barely glance up from the screen they’re sharing; Ten’s iPad is a huge source of interest for them. Apparently, their mum doesn’t let them use such things at home, but Ten figures that if it makes them like him, it’s worth aggravating her. 

It’s been good with them today. Once day-care was over and they’d both come rushing outside, he’d encouraged them to talk about their days, albeit awkwardly. They’d told him about someone they’d met but not quite yet befriended, a cool boy with a Moomin back-pack whose name Ten could swear he knew from somewhere. They’d drawn things too. Neither of them are outstanding artists, but Ten did the thing he felt you were supposed to in that situation, and stuck the pages of scribbles on the fridge. They’d both beamed at that, and it had made Ten wonder if their drawings were ever put on the fridge at home.

“I’m sure they’ve heard a lot worse. But seriously, are you sure you wanna do that? You really liked Taeyong.”

“That was years ago, I’m over it.” Yuta doesn’t look convinced, so Ten smiles. “Way, way over it, seriously. And he and Doyoung seem good together. Besides…” Ten looks over to the kids, Jaemin pointing at something on the screen and Jeno snatching his finger back to look at it. Something near to fondness blooms in his chest. “I have a lot more important stuff going on right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please ignore, if you can, the fact that ten is a different race from his half-brothers. I know he's full thai, not half, and jeno and jaem are korean. I KNOW, before some inevitably tells me. Like they tried to tell me that lucas is the same age as mark. I know, guys. it's fiction. 
> 
> love ya. 
> 
> dotae and markren coming in the next chapter!! 
> 
> talk to me on twitter: sobistars
> 
> rest well and stay healthy, friends.


	6. the edge of moving on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the day of the date; and just about everyone is nervous. apart from Ten. Ten is pretty okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! long time no see. 
> 
> in the hopes that there's still someone reading this, i'm sorry for leaving this fic as long as i have. I went back to uni, so that's been a focus. But i also haven't felt as connected to the fandom. It's sad, but this fic still means a lot to me. I love the characters and the story, and it's for Rachel; so i had to finish it.
> 
> i hope you enjoy it.
> 
> <3

“Can you stop bouncing your leg, hyung?”

Doyoung snaps his head to look at his brother, with his cheeks full of cereal and milk dripping down his chin, smiling knowingly.

_Who eats cereal at six in the evening, honestly?_

“It’s shaking the table,” Jungwoo continues brightly when Doyoung frowns in response. 

“Sorry,” he says, not meaning it. Kind of meaning it. He’s nervous, so can’t be entirely sorry. The date’s in an hour, and he’s already so frazzled. _Get a grip, Doyoung._

Jungwoo smiles again; the same smile he’d had when Doyoung came home yesterday and told him about what had happened when he’d picked Renjun up from daycare. There had been… a lot to tell him.

 

**

 

_The Day Before…_

 

He’d known Ten was going to be there; Johnny had told him all about the twins that day at work, and of course he’d expected Taeyong, had even gone so far as to prepare for it with just a touch more hair product than usual (though he hadn’t told Jungwoo that).

What he hadn’t expected was seeing the two of them together, smiling and laughing. Taeyong was giggling cutely at something Ten had just said, pushing him playfully, when Doyoung entered the building. Usually, Doyoung didn’t do jealousy, and he was hesitant to call it that when he saw them together. But there was a twinge, _only a twinge_ , of, what? Sadness? Disappointment? Loss?

He’d been sure, in a split second, that Ten was chatting Taeyong up, and doing a bloody good job of it. Doyoung had been trying, in his own subtle, desperate way, to hint to Taeyong that he was interested. He’d been so close to asking him out on a real date the other week, but it had turned into yet another trip out with the kids. Not that he didn’t love the kids, but that wasn’t the point.

The biggest surprise of the day for Doyoung, therefore, was Ten looking purely ecstatic to see him, and the slight flush of Taeyong’s cheeks that definitely hadn’t been there when Ten was talking to him.

“Hey, Doyoung! Come and wait with us.”

“Uh,” Doyoung fumbled a little, confused at the excitement, “hello Ten, Taeyong.”

Taeyong smiled, his blush deep. Ten looked between him and Doyoung, beaming.

“I heard about the twins,” Doyoung said to fill the quiet. “How’s your mother?”

“Step-mother. Fine, I guess. I dunno. Not well enough to raise her kids herself, apparently. But we’re okay, they’re okay.”

Doyoung nodded, unsure how to take that. He and Ten weren’t particularly close; only friendly when they needed to be. Doyoung had, prior to learning he was taking care of his younger siblings, considered Ten to be kind of immature. A little lost, without direction or motivation to find one. Doyoung, of course, knew he’d found his direction early; 9 to 5 job in accountancy and a family. Perhaps his family wasn’t nuclear, and he never managed to quite stay in the office until 5, but he was steady. He needed steady. Ten was not steady, not in the slightest.

“So, Doyoung,” Ten said, filling another awkward silence in which Doyoung had become interested in the way Taeyong was playing with his hands nervously. “You know Taeyong, right? Nice looking, huh?”

Doyoung and Taeyong’s heads snapped up in unison. “What?” they said together.

Ten smirked. “Not bad to look at, is he?”

“Thank you, Ten,” Taeyong muttered, his blush finally reaching its peak; the rosy shade covering the tips of his ears. Ten ignored him, looking at Doyoung for an answer.

“Urm, yeah. Yeah, he’s very... Very pretty.”

Ten smiled triumphantly. Doyoung didn’t look at Taeyong, groaning inwardly at his choice of words.

“So, how about a date between the two of you? Without the kids this time? A Grown-up date?”

Doyoung narrowed his eyes, processing what this meant. He narrowed it down quickly to three revelations:

 

1) it was very likely Taeyong had mentioned their previous ‘dates’, due to Ten knowing their children had been present.

2) Taeyong had perhaps used the word ‘date’ to describe them. 

3) it was possible (oh, so very possible) that he wanted a real one.

 

“You mean…” Doyoung began cautiously. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you and Taeyong, maybe a nice meal somewhere, maybe a bottle of wine, maybe kissing goodbye at th-” Ten was cut off to a swift jab in the stomach, perfectly aimed by Taeyong.

“It’s just dinner,” Taeyong said quickly, not quite meeting Doyoung’s eyes, “doesn’t need to be… I mean, not if you… or if you do, you know, it could be…”

“Did you know, he was actually relatively good at words when I knew him?” Ten said, still clutching his stomach. “He used to rap-” Another savage blow to the stomach. “Jesus Christ, Ty. Still work out, then?”

“Seriously, Doyoung. Whatever you want it to be. No pressure.”

“No kids?”

Taeyong looked disappointed. “If you want them there, they can-”

“No, no, I just mean… I don’t know if I’ll be able to find a babysitter on such short notice. My brother is going out tomorrow night, we might need to-”

“I can look after Renjun!” Ten said quickly, his voice still a little winded. “And Mark! I’ll babysit.”

Doyoung raised an eyebrow. “You?”

“Yeah! I mean, Yuta will probably help me. You remember my roommate?”

Doyoung did remember Ten’s roommate, though that did absolutely nothing to subdue his hesitation. “I… I’m not sure I’d be comfortable…”

“I’ll ask Johnny and Jaehyun, too! They’re great at kids. They can bring Hyuck. We’ll have a slumber party or whatever.”

“Where will you keep them all?

“In our flat, there’s plenty of room. They can stay over, we’ll get them little sleeping bags.

“I…” Doyoung thought about it. The thought of Renjun staying with Ten was nerve-wracking enough, but the thought of him staying in a strange flat on top of that, with kids he barely knew, without Doyoung or Jungwoo with him… It seemed almost cruel. Renjun wasn’t used to things like that, wasn’t ready for so much all at once.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong said softly, “don’t feel pressured into this. If you don’t want to, no hard feelings. I like being friends, really.” His voice was earnest, and his face was just as convincing. Just like Mark, there was a playful look of innocence, a desire to please; something so pure it made Doyoung want to cry out and wrap him in cotton.

“I’d love to, Taeyong. Text me, alright? We can discuss the details later.”

Taeyong blushed as he served one last punch to Ten’s side just as he started to clap his hands and cheer.

 

**

 

_Present day…_

 

“I’ll come and pick Renjun up when I’m done at school, hyung,” Jungwoo assures him. “I’m leaving in a sec, see if I can get done any earlier. It’ll be past his bedtime, but it’ll be better than leaving him overnight.”

Doyoung gets up from his chair to clear his cup away. He’s refused himself coffee today; too much caffeine would scatter him. He’s allowed himself copious amounts of peppermint tea to settle his nervous stomach. “I’m not planning to spend the night with Taeyong, Woo.”

Renjun is colouring in his room, but Doyoung is still careful about his volume. He doesn’t want to stress Renjun out about stuff he won’t understand yet. He’s not sure he knows how to handle dating conversations anyway. 

“Why not? You’ve been on several dates, albeit ones where your children were present, and you like him a lot. Nothing has to happen, but wouldn’t it be okay if it did?”

“Sure… I mean, of course. We’re both consenting adults-”

“Exactly!" 

“With children,” Doyoung reminds him. “Whatever we do, we need to think about them first. And there’s the matter of…” Doyoung’s voice trails off.

“What, hyung?”

“The things Taeyong doesn’t know about me, the things I don’t know about him. Talking with children around limits the amount you can talk about. A lot of the more serious stuff gets pushed back.”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t think about that." 

“Well, why would you? You’re young. No children or…” Doyoung stops his sentence again, and Jungwoo bites his lip at what goes unsaid. 

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

“Don’t be. Please, don’t be.” Doyoung breathes out, staring into his empty cup “It’s time I faced up to it. You’re right, I like Taeyong and I shouldn’t feel guilty for it.” 

Jungwoo gives him a small smile.

“Still not going to sleep with him though.”

“Sleep with who?” comes Renjun’s voice from the doorway. 

Doyoung spins on his heel, eyes wide. “Jun!”

Renjun cocks his head, Moomin cradled in his arms. _Curse his light step._  

“What did you hear?” 

Renjun shrugs. “Not much.” 

“Great. Time to go to Uncle Ten’s then! Got your bag?” Doyoung moves to lead Renjun from the room, grabbing his keys and both their coats from the hooks in the hallway as he heads for the front door. He hears Jungwoo sniggering from the kitchen but presses on. 

“Dad-” 

“Say bye to Uncle Woo, Jun.”

“Bye, Uncle Woo,” Renjun calls. “But, dad-”

“Not now, Junnie. Uncle Ten will be waiting.” It’s a lie; they’re very, very early.

Doyoung fumbles with the locks on the front door, hands shaking with the embarrassment of his son possibly hearing-

“Ah ha!” he exclaims once he’s finally got the door open, stepping outside and groaning instantly.

“Dad, your shoes…”

Doyoung looks down to his socked feet, ankle deep in a puddle, realising his mistake and cursing himself, the rain, and the whole damn day.

A part of him wonders what Taeyong’s evening is looking like so far.

 

* * *

 

“Are you really sure you’re okay with looking after them?” Taeyong says, glancing briefly to see Mark still tapping away on Taeyong’s iPad. Taeyong has said he can use it for the night, show it to Renjun.

“Yes,” Ten replies, sounding bored through the phone. It’s probably the tenth time Taeyong has asked since he offered, and he’s still not sure.

“Really? Because after the conversation we had about the twins…”

“I’m telling you, I’ll be fine. I have my minions to help.”

“The word minion has been tainted since 2015, use something else.”

“My helper elves, my groupies, my armada, I don’t fucking know, Ty.”

“Language!” Mark calls, not looking up from the screen.

“Ten! I’m in the car with Mark,” Taeyong concentrates as he turns a corner, “you’re on speaker.”

“My bad. Though you really shouldn’t be using your phone whilst driving. Hello Markus-”

“You called me. And that’s not even his name-”

“-You excited to spend the night with your Uncle Ten, Mark?”

“Sure,” Mark says, sounding unconvinced.

“Okay, we’ll work on the energy later. You’re on your way over, right?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you meeting Doyo-”

“Somewhere,” Taeyong cuts across him quickly. He’s not sure why he’s so afraid of Mark knowing, he just doesn’t feel ready to have _the_ conversation yet.

“O-kay. See you soon, I guess. I’ll let your daddy get back to driving now, Mark.”

“Please never call me that ever-”

“Bye daddy see you later bye, bye dad, love you, by-”

Taeyong hangs up quickly, but Mark is already giggling.

“He sounds funny.”

“He isn’t,” Taeyong answers, but smiles still. “You’re okay with this, aren’t you? Spending the night with Ten? And Renjun, of course.”

“Yeah, da. It’ll be fun.

Taeyong nods, can’t help the way his mind is still stuck on the worry that this will be too much too soon for Mark. They’ve only just moved, really. There’s still so much they’re getting used to, so much left unsettled. And Mark has never had to deal with Taeyong dating, sharing his attention with someone else. His mum… well, Taeyong isn’t quite sure how much Mark has processed about it all, how much he’s yet to explain to his son about what happened and why it happened and… _everything._

Everything just feels so up in the air.

“Da?”

“Mark?”

“You missed the turning.”

“Oh. Oh. I did. You’re right. Sorry.”

He loves his son. Loves him so much. He likes Doyoung, but Mark comes first. He’s not going to screw this up.

Any of it.

 

* * *

 

Renjun has only met Ten once before. He hadn’t paid him much attention, which suited Renjun just fine. It had been at Donghyuck’s house, and the two of them had spent most of the time in Donghyuck’s bedroom playing with his puppy Myunghee. Donghyuck with be there tonight, his dad told him, and his Dads. 

He's a little uneasy about tonight; his Dad had assured him Uncle Woo would be picking him up and bringing him home after a few hours, and if he wanted, he could get Ten to call and get him home sooner. There's no real reason to be so nervous he knows that. It feels good knowing that he doesn’t have to stay long if he doesn’t want to, but there's still nothing that feels wrong. Maybe it's his dad, and how weird he's being. He’s been quiet the entire car ride to Ten’s house. He usually chats with Renjun in the car, only asks him to be quiet when he’s turning a corner so he can focus. Today, he’s quiet. It feels wrong.

He’s done a lot of weird stuff today.

Going out in barefoot hadn’t even been the start of it. He’d squeaked this morning when he’d seen Mark’s dad at daycare. Mr Lee had smiled, but he’d looked nervous too. They hadn't spoken to each other, which Renjun thought was the weirdest part of it all considering his dad was usually dragging him along so they could talk.

Then there’d been the bathroom thing.

Renjun had been watching from the doorway as his dad had poked at his eyes and winced for 10 minutes straight. His dad had jumped at his voice when Renjun had asked if he was okay, and yelped when he poked himself in the eye. Renjun still felt a little guilty, but looking back, it was just a little bit his own fault for having his fingers near his eye anyway.

His dad had explained he was putting his contacts in to help him see, which still seemed strange to Renjun because he’d never known his dad couldn’t see. Uncle Woo had laughed when Renjun told him that, ensuring him that his dad just wanted to look nice today. Which again, was weird, because Renjun thinks his dad always looks nice. 

Only once they’re at Ten’s front door, Renjun starts to feel more uneasy. His dad squeezes his shoulder and smiles down at him. Renjun squeezes Moomin a little tighter with one arm, adjusts the strap of his backpack with his free hand. He’s brought crayons and his best paper that he saves only for his best drawings. He’s thinking of giving Mark a sheet; his drawing has gotten a lot better lately.

“Ready, Junnie?” his dad says softly, holding his hand out to knock on the door.

Renjun nods quietly. 

“Remember, if you want to come home, get Ten to call, okay?” he says quickly as he knocks.

Renjun nods again, flinching slightly when the door opens only a handful of seconds later.

A man he’s never seen before stands in front of him, laughing at something Renjun hasn’t heard. His smile is bigger than any smile he’s ever seen, and it’s kind of frightening how bright he is.

“Hi! You must be Doyoung and-“ the bright man looks down “Renjun! Hi!”

“You must be Ten’s roommate,” Renjun’s dad says politely.

“Yuta,” he says, happily. “Nakamoto Yuta.” He bows his head slightly, and Renjun follows suit instinctively.

“Come on in. You’re early, but you’re the last ones in. Everyone got a little too excited, I guess.”

Renjun and his dad follow Yuta into the flat. Renjun keeps his head down, hearing the noise from another room and wanting so badly to latch onto his dad’s leg and never let go. He’s not sure where his dad is going tonight, but he thinks it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he went there too. He’s quiet, and he wouldn’t wander off this time. He’d sit still whilst his dad did whatever he needed to, and he’d never have to leave him alone ever again.

When they enter the room, Renjun is struck by how many people are in the room, and then again when he realises he knows them all. Donghyuck’s dads are chatting happily to Ten and Mr Lee on the sofa. Donghyuck, Mark and the new boys from daycare whose names Renjun can’t remember are playing with Myunghee. Lucas from day-care is watching them, sipping from a glass and laughing. Renjun’s mouth opens; he hadn’t expected Lucas to be here, but he feels relief that he is.

“Oh, hi,” Renjun’s dad says to the room, suddenly sounding nervous again. Renjun looks up at him, to find him looking straight at Mr Lee, who’s looking straight back and blushing. “I suppose we’re both early, then.”

“Yeah,” Mr Lee replies. “Hey.”

Renjun flinches when Ten claps his hands together. “Well! Since you’re both here, you might as well be off!”

“Yes… Yes, I suppose we may as well-" 

“Yeah! Sounds good, we can take-“

“My car. Or-or yours! I don’t mind, whatever-“

“No, no, whatever you want-“

“As sweet as all this stumbling is,” Ten says, cutting across Renjun’s dad and Mr Lee, “we’re currently hosting the most exciting sleepover ever, so, you know. Go away.”

Renjun looks up at his dad once more, sees he’s blushing just as much Mr Lee. He looks down to meet his eyes and bites his lip.

“Junnie, you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Renjun looks back at the adults on the sofa. Jaehyun offers him a smile and a wave. He looks at his friends in the corner of the room, fussing over the dog. He looks at Mr Lee, smiling nervously at him.

Looks back at his dad.

“I’m okay, dad.”

And he thinks he means it. He's willing to try, at least.

 

* * *

 

They take Doyoung’s car after fumbling over their words for another five minutes after they’ve left the flat. Taeyong goes off Ten’s advice from the night before and directs Doyoung to a Thai restaurant not too far away from Ten’s building. The lack of distance makes him feel better about leaving Mark, and the restaurant is nice enough; nothing too fancy that they needed to get a reservation, but nice enough that’s it’s quiet and they won’t leave with food poisoning, which is all he’s asking for from restaurants really.  

The waitress smiles knowingly at them as she seats them at a table towards the back of the room. It’s a little more secluded than the rest of the tables, but it does nothing to make Taeyong feel any calmer, since hiding them from the rest of the restaurant only intensifies one another’s presences, but he’s sure she means well. Or maybe she has no idea they're on a date, and he's reading into things that don't need to be read into. It's been so long since he's been on a date, he wonders if he's going to get any of it right tonight.

“So,” Doyoung starts when they’re both sitting down. “We’re here!”

“Yeah!" 

“No kids.” 

“Nope.”

They pause for a second, and Taeyong fears they won't be able to say anything else to eachother for the rest of the night.

“I’m really nervous," Doyoung says finally, Taeyong finally breathes.

He laughs easily as he takes Doyoung in; looks amazing tonight; a simple sweater that somehow gives the appearance of having made a lot of effort. It’s soft too, Taeyong had accidentally brushed his hand against it when was opening the door for him, and the pair of them had blushed harder than before.

“Me too.”

“It’s been a while for me.”

“Same.”

“And I think I might really like you. Is that too early to say on our first real date?”

Taeyong tries not to let his eyes bulge out of his head. “Y-you do?”

Doyoung nods. “Why’d you think I agreed to this? Why’d you think I’ve been grabbing coffee with you for the past few weeks? Why’d you think my hand is literally shaking because you haven’t said you like me back yet?”

“Oh, gosh. Yeah. I like you too. Jesus, of course I do!”

Doyoung laughs, free and easy, and it makes Taeyong’s heart skip a beat. Doyoung doesn’t show his smile often, but Taeyong has it memorised already; gummy and playful and sweet. It’s strange to see someone so mature have a smile so childish and cute. He wants to tell Doyoung as much, but thinks it might be a little too much at this juncture of their relationship.

Then again, Doyoung _had_ called him pretty yesterday. And he’d almost peed his pants.

“Don’t think so much,” Doyoung says, his laughing finally simmering. “I mean, I think maybe we should both stop overthinking this and just… enjoy ourselves?”

“Yeah.” Taeyong smiles back Doyoung and wills himself to relax. He pushes himself forward a little to be closer to the table, and Doyoung responds in kind. “I think we should.”

They’re still smiling at each other by the time the waitress is back to take their orders, an obvious smile playing on her lips.

 

* * *

 

 

It feels like mere minutes before they’re leaving. Doyoung hiccups as they leave the building and Taeyong falls into his side with the amount it makes him laugh. They’re both just a nice side of tipsy; their judgement isn’t cloudy, but their nerves have been put at bay. Taeyongs foot had nudged Doyoung’s leg under the table a couple of times at dinner, and it hadn’t made Doyoung blush as embarrassingly as it might have without the pleasant buzz at the back of his head guiding him through the date.

Covering his mouth when he hiccups again, Doyoung tries to shrug on his coat. Taeyong, having mercy on him, pulls the coat around his shoulders.

“Thanks,” Doyoung hiccups.

“You’re welcome,” Taeyong says back, his voice slightly deepened from the alcohol. “What’s with the hiccups?”

“I always get hiccups after spicy food. That som tam was lethal.” Doyoung punctuates his sentence with another hiccup, followed by a groan.

“That’s why I stayed clear,” Taeyong laughs, throwing on his own coat, “Ten and I used to eat Thai food all the time, I learnt all the danger spots.” 

“Ah,” _hiccup_ , “I see,” _hiccup_ , “but you didn’t think to warn me?”

_Hiccup._

“Maybe part of me knew how cute the outcome would be,” Taeyong says almost shyly, blushing as soon as he’s said it. “Or is that cheesy? Too much? Sorry, I-“

Doyoung cuts him off by grabbing his hands, working to lace their fingers together before Taeyong takes the hint and opens his hand wide to accommodate Doyoung’s. Doyoung smiles, Taeyong is still blushing, but it looks more at ease now they’re touching. Doyoung, in all his lack of experience, guesses now would be the right time to lean forward and-

_Hiccup._

“Oh my gosh, seriously?” Doyoung says angrily to the unknown force who has decided to fuck with him in such a crucial moment. “Why, of all the moments, does my body just have to-“

Again, Doyoung is cut off, though this time it’s Taeyong’s lips pushing against his own that stops him in his tracks. It shocks him, the way his body almost immediately reacts to the movement. His hand squeezes Taeyongs, telling him this what the right move. His free hand comes up of its own accord to cup Taeyong’s elbow, lightly pulling him closer. All at once Doyoung feels like a nervous teen again; worrying about teeth crashing together once their mouths open in unison, subconsciously wanting to open his eyes so he can keep his face in the right place (more of an issue than it sounds) and enjoying the inexplicable elation blooming in his chest when Taeyong lightly presses against it with his own. Even through the jumper and his jacket, Doyoung feels a chill race up his spine. Feels it electrify him. 

When they break apart, there’s an unspoken need between the pair of them to stay close after finally subduing to what Doyoung suspects he’s wanted to do from the first moment he met Taeyong.

“Should we- urm. Do you want to-“ Taeyong says, still flustered beyond belief.

“My place?” Doyoung almost hums. It takes only Taeyong’s gentle nod for Doyoung to spring into action and pull him back to his car.

 

* * *

 

About halfway through the film Ten had insisted everyone watch, Mark notices Renjun slink off.

He glances around at the room, seeing that Renjun’s leaving has gone unnoticed. Ten and Yuta are watching intently, mouthing along with the words and playing out the characters on screen together.

Donghyuck is being cuddled and rocked gently by one of his dad’s, his eyes drooping sleepily. He gets tired quicker than other kids, Lucas (who is now snoring lightly in the armchair nearest the television) had explained to Mark at day-care. Donghyuck’s other dad is resting in front of them on the floor, Myunghee curled up beside him. Jeno and Jaemin are fussing over her more than watching the movie, and she’s taking their fussing, wagging her tail happily.

Mark is quiet as he gets up from his seat on the floor to follow Renjun. They’d gotten a tour of the place from Yuta, so he knows he’s following Renjun into one of the bedrooms. There are bedrolls that Donghyuck’s dads had brought already rolled out on the floor. 

“Hi,” Mark says quietly, but he still makes Renjun jump. He whips around quickly, looking relieved when he sees it’s only Mark.

“Hi,” Renjun replies, going towards his bag and pulling out paper and crayons. He plonks himself on one of the sleeping mats and puts the pad of paper “Wanna draw with me?”

Mark nods, treading lightly as he goes to sit on the free bedroll. He accepts the paper and the handful of crayons Renjun gives him, and watches as the other boy quickly gets to work on his drawing. It’s often like this; Renjun likes to work quietly, only talking when it’s absolutely necessary, and Mark has learnt not to talk too much when he’s lucky enough to be invited by Renjun to sit with him. 

That’s why he’s so surprised when Renjun breaks the quiet. “Do you know where our dads went?” he asks, voice low. Mark looks up from the giraffe he's drawing to look at Renjun, who still has his head ducked, nose almost touching his paper.

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

They go quiet again.

“Hey, Renjun?” Mark says after a moment. “You know what married is?

“I think so.”

“Back in Canada,” Mark starts. He hasn’t talked about Canada since he got here. Hasn’t spoken English for almost as long. “Back in Canada,” he repeats, “people used to ask my mom and da all the time if they were married. My mom would laugh and say no. Then my da would go real quiet. He never really explained it to me.”

Renjun is quiet for a while, and Mark wonders if maybe he’s not going to say anything, until he replies quietly, still not looking up. “My mum and dad were married.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“What did they do?”

“I dunno, I don’t remember.”

“Huh.”

“Dad said they really loved each other. And me.”

“That’s good. My da doesn’t talk about my mom much, but I know he loves me.”

Renjun looks up at that. He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by the sound of the front door knocking. The pair of them listen as one of the adults gets up to answer it, focusing hard on the sound and both silently wondering whether it’s one of their dad’s.

“Hello, can I help you?” Mark hears Yuta say brightly. He can’t hear the reply, so he creeps to the door of the bedroom to listen. Renjun stays where he is.

“Of course! Totally forgot you were coming,” Yuta continues. “He’s just in here, come in.”

Mark catches a glimpse of the stranger as he’s passing; a man he’s never seen before. He hides behind the door a little so he’s not seen. He feels vaguely like he’s protecting Renjun, who he knows doesn’t like strangers. He puffs out his chest a little at the thought.

“Oh, I thought he was in here,” Yuta’s voice comes again. “I don’t know where he went. Renjun?”

Mark turns, but Renjun is already there by his side. “I think it’s my Uncle,” he says quietly, “he came to take me home.”

“Oh,” Mark replies, feeling disappointed. He’d been excited about having a sleepover with Renjun, and he’d hoped they’d have a little more time to talk and play. He likes Donghyuck and the twins, but he likes how quiet Renjun is, how difficult he is to impress. It makes him feel good when Renjun plays or talks to him, because he knows he doesn’t just hang out with anyone. It makes him feel special when Renjun pays attention to him.

“Renjunnie?” Mark hears someone call.

He moves out of the way to let Renjun out of the door. The boy does so, turning into the corridor and calling out for his uncle.

“Oh, there you are! Hey, you ready to go? I got done early.”

Mark pouts and returns to the bedrolls. He gathers Renjun’s crayons, putting them back in their case before pulling the sheets of paper together neatly.

“What’re you doing?” Renjun says suddenly behind him. He does that a lot. Sneaking up on him.

“Putting your stuff away so you can go home." 

Renjun waits for a moment, before sitting himself back down in the same spot as before. He pulls the papers from Mark’s hands and shuffles through them to find the drawing he was working on. He then grabs his crayons and continues colouring like he never got up.

“Renjun?”

“I asked my Uncle Woo if we could stay for a while. He said it was almost my bedtime so I asked if I could stay over, and he said yes.”

“Oh.”

“Could you pass me that pencil by your foot, please?”

Mark does as he’s asked, smiling shyly but not saying anything else.

“Thank you. Do you want your paper back?”

Mark nods, takes the paper, and the pair of them draw until the film is over and the adult are calling bed-time.

 

* * *

 

 

Nothing happens, and Taeyong is okay with that. He likes the way they’ve decided to take it slow, and cuddling has never stood in bad reckoning with him. They’re catching the last few episodes of a drama marathon that neither of them has seen, snuggling contently on Doyoung’s sofa and kissing whenever one of them feels the want to. Their peace is disrupted by the buzz of Doyoung’s phone in his pocket. He groans a little as he moves to pull it out and read the message.

“My brother says Renjun wants to sleep over at Ten’s,” Doyoung says, scratching at the back of his neck. Taeyong raises a hand to get the scratch for him, and smiles when Doyoung instantly relaxes into the touch. “And he’s staying there too, getting chatted up by- Oh gosh, _Lucas.”_

“Lucas?” Taeyong says, straightening up to read the text over Doyoung’s shoulder. _It feels nice that we’re already this comfortable with each other,_ he thinks, as he hooks his chin over Doyoung’s shoulder. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung says, raising his arm to show Taeyong the message more clearly.

“Wow, good for them.”

“Yeah…” Doyoung says again, voice trailing off this time. “Guess we have a bit longer then, snuggle back down.”

Taeyong smiles, doing as he’s told and leaning back against the back of the sofa, pulling Doyoung back into him. 

No one speaks until they get through the next couple of episodes. There’s only one left, and Taeyong doesn’t know what they’re going to do once that one is over. He hopes Doyoung won’t want him to leave, but he’ll accept it if he does. He’s only just realising that he’ll be staying in his apartment alone tonight for the first time since Mark was born, and the thought scares him more than he expected.

“Taeyong?” Doyoung says, his head is burrowed into Taeyong’s neck. His voice is soft; kind of raspy through the strain of trying to be quiet. Taeyong isn’t sure why he’s using this volume but indulges him when he whispers back. 

“Yeah?” 

“Could we maybe talk… about everything?”

Taeyong swallows, and Doyoung no doubt feels it. He can’t help but smile when Doyoung presses a little kiss on the base of his throat, like he’s trying to tell him it’s okay.

“Of course,” he answers.

“Okay,” Doyoung sighs, pausing for a moment before he pulls himself out of Taeyong’s arms once more. Taeyong wants to protest, but lets his arms fall from where they’ve gathered around Doyoung’s waist. He looks serious, as always, his mouth scrunched a little like he’s trying to focus. Taeyong’s eyes get caught on Doyoung’s lips, the tiny scar in the corner that Taeyong hasn’t  had a chance to kiss yet. He promises himself he'll do it at the opportunity. 

“Okay,” Doyoung repeats, as if he knows Taeyong is getting distracted.

“Should I sit up too?” his voice comes out a little small and confused, like he’s asking for permission. He blushes when Doyoung laughs.

“It might make this conversation easier,” Doyoung says, warmly, voice still gentle, the crease between his eyebrows softened.

Taeyong gives him a tiny smile, and pulls himself up. He turns on the sofa, scoots back a little, and Doyoung does the same, bringing his legs up with him, so they’re facing each other, their knees not quite brushing.

“Okay, so…” Taeyong’s voice trails off, when he realises he’s not actually sure how Doyoung wants to discuss this. Or what he even wants to discuss.

“So…” Doyoung seems nervous too, but his voice is a little louder now, and there’s an urgency. Like this is something he’s been preparing to say for some time now. “I know you’re probably going to know all this, since you probably feel the same about Mark, but I want to say it anyway, because I haven’t been with anyone since Renjun’s mum and I want to set it clear in my own head, okay?”

“Okay…” Taeyong tries to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. 

“Renjun is my number one,” Doyoung says, simply.

Taeyong breathes. He’d actually been expecting thisconversation, he's not sure why it catches him off guard.

“He’s my priority,” Doyoung continues, “my life is centred around him, making him happy and making sure he grows up well. I care about other things, my friends, my other family, but Renjun is the centre of my world.”

“And mark is mine,” Taeyong confirms.

“Right,” Doyoung nods, “so you know that no matter how much I like you, wherever our relationship goes from here, Renjun comes first. And if it somehow upsets him, you and me, if he can’t cope with it, I won’t be able to do this." 

“I…I get that.” This is something he’s considered as well. He’s been trying with Renjun; saying hello to him and including him in conversations, but he often gets very little response. He remembers Mark telling him distantly one day that he wasn’t sure if Renjun liked him or not, but that he really was trying to be his friend. Taeyong wonders if Renjun is perhaps just shy, and whether it would be better to back off or try harder.

“I know he can be a little difficult, he seems really distant a lot of the time,” Doyoung continues, as if he’s read Taeyong’s mind, “but he’s sensitive. Probably the most sensitive little boy of his age and I know I can’t shelter him for the rest of his life, but he lost his mum at such a young age.” Taeyong grabs his hands at the words, and Doyoung opts to stare at their entwined fingers rather than at him. “I won’t spoil the relationship he and I have. I can’t. He needs me.”

“I understand.” Taeyong squeezes his hands. “Really.”

Doyoung looks up, looking a little more hopeful than he did five minutes ago. “That being said. I like you. I _really_ , really like you. And I’d like this to go somewhere.” He raises their hands a little. “And I’m willing to work at weaving our families together. I’m not saying get married, just… I’m willing to make this something. See what happens."

Taeyong breathes a sigh of relief. “I really, really want that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

They sit in silence for a moment, gently caressing each other’s hands, neither looking at the other. Taeyong runs his thumb along Doyoung’s, whilst Doyoung taps the pads of his fingers against Taeyong’s in a rhythm.

“Hey, Doyoung?” Taeyong says after a moment, something Doyoung said weighing a little uneasily in his mind.

Doyoung lies back, head resting on the cushion at the arm of the sofa. His soft, black hair fans out beneath him. “Mm?”

Following suit, Taeyong lays beside him, careful to keep their hands entwined as his head takes up space on the same cushion. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but Doyoung curls around him to accommodate the pair of them. Remembering his promise, he leans in to kiss the side of Doyoung's mouth, and Doyoung chases it, puckering his lips for more. Taeyong relents to three, all chaste, in quick succession. He almost forgets his question.

“You really haven’t been with anyone since Renjun’s mum?”

For a few moments, Doyoung is quiet, and Taeyong worries he’s asked something he shouldn’t have. “Hey, if you don’t want to talk about-" 

“No, it’s okay,” Doyoung cuts him off. “No, I haven’t. And I’d never really been with anyone before her, either.”

“How come?”

Doyoung is quiet again, but the atmosphere is different. His face is strained, likes he trying to figure out the answer. “I never really bonded with anyone before her,” he decides on. “And then, sometime after we got married, and she was pregnant, I realised I was gay.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it hard?" 

“So, so hard. She cried a lot. I did too." 

“What happened?”

“I really did love her.” Doyoung looks at Taeyong, now, turns his face just a little for their eyes to meet and bare into each other. “Not the way I probably needed to, but I did. And I wanted our baby. We were still going to be a family.”

“But?”

“But then…” Doyoung sighs. It’s an old sigh. Makes Doyoung seem like he’s lived two hundred lifetimes. Taeyong grips his hand a little tighter. “She passed. Not long after Renjun was born.”

“I’m sorry.” Taeyong keeps his voice quiet.

“What about you?”

“Huh?" 

“Would you tell me about mark’s mum?”

“Oh.” Taeyong figures he should have expected that question. “I met her when I first moved to Canada. I went for dance, I got a scholarship to learn and teach and it was just the most amazing opportunity, you know?”

“That sounds great.”

“It really was. It would have had to have been a great offer for me to have left here. My dance team was pretty great, I loved them.”

“Ten was on your team, right?”

Taeyong flushes. “Yeah.”

“Were you two…” Doyoung doesn’t sound jealous, just mildly curious, and for some reason, that makes Taeyong feel upset. He shakes it off.

“We were kinda… something, I guess? I don’t know. But whatever it was, it was over when I went to Canada. Kind of screwed him over, I guess.”

“I’m sure he doesn't hold a grudge. Since he set us up and everything.”

“No, I guess not…”

“So, Canada?” Doyoung prompts him, and Taeyong remembers the story he's meant to be telling.

“Yeah… So, when I first got there, it was pretty cool. But I realised really fast how different it was, how much I stood out, and I was terrified.”

“I would have been.”

“When I first got to the new studio, I met this girl. A couple of years older than me, Korean too. Really pretty. A few months in, I got involved with her. She helped me get used to… everything, I guess. Showed me how to live in a new place. I’d…” Taeyong mumbles a little, feeling awkward about the next part, even though he shouldn’t.

“I’d never been with a woman; I’d thought I was gay my whole life, I guess I didn’t know bisexuality was a valid option for me.  I’m still not totally sure if that’s the way I want to label myself.”

Doyoung squeezes his hand. “That’s okay. I’m proof that’s it’s okay to figure stuff out late. You don’t even really need to figure it out at all. Just live, you know?” 

“I like you, Doyoung.”

“I like you too.” Doyoung smiles. “So, what happened?”

“She got pregnant.” Taeyong laughs a little bitterly, remembering. “She was so mad when she found out, blamed me a little, I guess? I don’t know. She’s from Korea too, she came a couple of years before me on the same programme, and I suppose she just felt like I’d stolen her big break. She was an amazing dancer.”

Doyoung nods.

“I stayed with her, obviously. I was terrified but actually kind of excited? I’d been there for a year by then, and I knew I’d have to give up dancing, but it was okay, you know? I figured I’d make it work. My mum always said her life started when she had me, so I thought it’d be the same for me. And it was." 

“Of course, that’s exactly what it’s like.”

“Right? But she didn’t see it like that. Man, she hated Mark the minute she knew he existed. She had him, obviously, I never really knew why but I didn’t want to question it. Just wanted my baby, my baby Mark.”

Doyoung smiles at that, and Taeyong can’t help but return it in full, thinking of him, his son, somewhere right now, snuggled in bed, dreaming happily.

“I love him way more than I ever could have loved her.”

Doyoung smiles wider. “I know.”

“Long story short, she didn’t care about him. he barely saw her, most of the time.”

“You said before, his aunt took care of him sometimes?”

Taeyong nods. “My Noona. She lived there for a little while, just doing some work experience stuff. She helped me, she knew more about babies than me, somehow. She came back to Korea six months ago, and when she did I realised how alone I felt, how the only person I loved in Canada was Mark, and the rest of the people I loved were in Korea. It seemed obvious I needed to go home, so my mum sent me the money.”

“And his mum?”

“If she’d cared about Mark, if she’d wanted to fight for him, I would have stayed. I wanted him to have a mum, you know? I didn’t want it this way.”

“But she didn’t fight for him?”

“Nope. I don’t even know where she is now. I tried to give her a forwarding address, the number to my parents’ house. She didn’t take them.”

“I’m sorry, Taeyong.”

“It’s okay, it’s not like I lost the love of life. She gave me the love of my life, and I guess she means something to me because of that, but as long as I have him, that’s all that matters to me." 

“That’s amazing, Taeyong. I’m glad you have him. And he has you." 

“Thank you,” Taeyong says, warmth spreading through his chest, not for the first time this evening. “I mean it, thank you. For these past few weeks, and for tonight, and just now. Being so nice and patient and… gentle with me. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Doyoung says, kissing his nose lightly. “It’s been my pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

 

Renjun tries to be quiet but can’t help wriggling in his sleeping bag, pulling Moomin closer towards him and sighing. He doesn’t know how long they’ve all been lying here; Jeno and Jaemin in the bed and Mark and he pushed together on the floor. Donghyuck’s parents had taken him and Myunghee home; Donghyuck already snoring in one of his dad’s arms.

“Hey, Renjun?” Mark whispers quietly. Renjun stops. He’d been sure everyone else was asleep. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” he says, equally as quiet. 

“Are you afraid of the dark?” 

Renjun bites his lip, embarrassed. He turns in his sleeping bag, feeling silly that he's gotten so worked up. He’d wanted to hang out with Mark, and he’d had a lot of fun drawing with him and making Moomin and Mark’s lion Minhyung play together, but now there’s a part of him that regrets it. He squeezes his eyes closed, wanting so badly to be somewhere else. Wherever his dad is.

“It’s okay if you are, my da is too,” Mark assures him, tapping Renjun’s shoulder through the material of the bag. Renjun lets his eyes flick open.

“Sometimes,” Mark continues, when Renjun doesn’t answer. “Sometimes, he comes into my room and sleeps in my bed with me, because I have a night-light. He’s scared of the dark, and he’s still the coolest person I know. So, it’s okay if you are, you know? It’s okay, Renjunnie.”

Renjun finds it odd that he doesn’t mind the nickname. His Dad uses it all the time, of course, and his Uncle Woo, but no one else has ever tried to use it, and Renjun isn’t sure he’d let them if they did. But this is Mark, and Mark isn’t just anyone else. 

“Wait here, okay?” Mark says, and Renjun nods even though Mark can’t see him.

Mark quietly creeps out of his sleeping bag and scurries across the room to the door. They’d shut it at one of the twin’s request, but Mark pulls it open to let a good amount of light from the hallway in. Renjun can hear the adults in the other room, talking and laughing. He hears his Uncle Woo’s voice, and relaxes at the relief of it.

Mark hurries back quickly and tucks himself into his sleeping bag again, closer to Renjun this time. “Better?” he whispers.

They can see each other now, so he nods.

“Good.” Mark stills for a moment, so Renjun shuts his eyes again.

“Renjun?” Mark says.

“Yeah?”

“We’re friends now, right?”

Renjun doesn’t need to think.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Mark says again, and Renjun smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

They go to Ten’s flat together to pick the kids up. Yuta opens the door to let them, eyes drooping from having just woken up. They find Jungwoo and Lucas snorting beside each other in the living room; Lucas playing the little spoon and smiling a little in his sleep. Doyoung laughs to himself at the material it gives for teasing his younger brother later.

They’re pleasantly surprised to find Mark and Renjun curled together on the floor of the bedroom; Mark’s hand over Renjun as if to protect him, Renjun drooling slightly over Moomin in his sleep. They’re silent; the moment perfectly still and serene. Like it’s second nature, Doyoung and Taeyong bring their arms to rest on each other’s back, pulling themselves close as they look at their sons from the doorway, allowing them another moment of peace before they wake them up and begin to explain everything.

They both wonder, with a little less fear than they both had yesterday, where they’ll start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this will be it for now. I might return to this story someday. I have some headcanons about this universe which if you're interested in I don't mind sharing on twitter or curious cat. If not, this is good-bye. 
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> talk to me on twitter @ sobistars
> 
> rest well and stay healthy, friends.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: sobistars
> 
> rest well and stay healthy, friends.


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